The clock struck ten. Inside the sprawling Vance manor, the crystal European chandeliers blazed with light, casting a brilliant glow over a drawing room suffocating with tension.Robert sat squarely in the center of the leather sofa, his expression as dark and stagnant as deep water. His fingers tapped a steady, rhythmic pattern against the mahogany armrest—each dull clack... clack... sounding like the deliberate countdown of a death sentence. Beside him, his second wife repeatedly wrung her hands, her chest heaving with sharp, agitated breaths. Meanwhile, Sera lounged comfortably in her armchair, legs crossed, casually swinging the embellished toe of her black velvet mule. She took a dainty sip of chamomile tea, a razor-sharp smirk curling the corner of her lips.Every pair of eyes in the room was locked onto the double oak front doors, left heavy and half-ajar.For hours, the room had been locked in this primed, motionless hostility, waiting for a single shadow to cross the threshol
Last Updated : 2026-09-04
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