Chapter 67 Ashes And Echoes

• The night after the Ashfords’ downfall was not quiet. Even as the convoy sped through the London streets toward the Blackwood estate, Ivy could feel the underworld shifting, quaking beneath the weight of what she had done. The Ashfords were not just another family—they had been a pillar of influence, a dynasty woven into the veins of corruption that ruled from the shadows. And now, their home was ash, their legacy crippled, their heir bleeding on the marble floor where she had left him.
• But Ivy was not satisfied.
• She sat in the SUV’s back seat, the flames of the burning estate still flickering behind her eyelids every time she blinked. Damien was beside her, silent as stone, his gaze fixed out the window. The tension between them was a living thing, coiling and uncoiling in the confined space, neither of them speaking because words would only ignite what already smoldered.