Chapter 47

• The moon spilled silver across the velvet darkness of the estate as Kieran stood by the tall windows, hands buried deep in the pockets of his black trousers. The weight of everything loyalties, lies, blood pressed against his chest, but all he could think about was him.
• Isandro.
• Behind him, the soft creak of the door opening barely registered before the familiar footfalls crossed the floor. Kieran didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. He felt the air shift, felt the way Isandro’s presence altered the very gravity of the room.