Chapter 65 The Gift Boxes

• When I walked back into the bedroom that morning, I froze.
• Two gift boxes sat neatly on my vanity; each wrapped in silver silk and edged with moonlight patterns. Darius’s touch was everywhere — precise, silent, deliberate. His gifts never came with explanations. They simply appeared, as if their presence alone was supposed to say everything he didn’t.
• I stared at them for a long time. In our world, a gift isn’t just a gift. It’s a declaration — of belonging, of promise… or of control.