Chapter 14

• The air in Julian’s study hung thick with the scent of old leather and expensive cigars, a stark contrast to the nervous energy thrumming between Cleo, Rowan, and the man himself. Julian, normally impeccably groomed, looked disheveled, his silk robe askew, his usually perfectly coiffed hair a mess. His eyes, however, burned with a chilling intensity, a predator cornered but far from defeated.
• Cleo, surprisingly, felt a strange calm settle over her. The fear that had been her constant companion for so long had receded, replaced by a steely resolve. Rowan stood beside her, a silent guardian, his presence a solid anchor in the storm brewing around them. He hadn't spoken, but his hand, lightly resting on the small of her back, was a silent promise of support.
• “So,” Julian began, his voice a low growl, “this is how it ends, is it? A betrayal. A pathetic attempt at escape.” He circled them slowly, like a caged lion assessing its prey, his gaze lingering on Cleo, then shifting to Rowan with barely concealed hatred. "You, Rowan. You, the man I trusted, the one I brought into my home."