Chapter 397

The night was deep and still.

Moonlight spilled through the balcony like a gauzy veil, casting a gentle, silvery haze over the bedroom. Everything felt warm and peaceful, wrapped in the hush of midnight.

Isadora lay in bed, arms draped around the man beside her, instinctively seeking the comfort of his familiar, pine-scented warmth.

It had been a long, exhausting day.

She was so tired.

She'd thought she wouldn't be able to sleep in the Fitzgerald family's grand estate.

But now, drowsiness weighed heavily on her.

"Victor..." she murmured, half-asleep.

Victor's dark eyes lingered on her, deep and intent. He stroked her soft curls with

a gentle hand, his voice low and tender. "What is it?"

Maybe she was already dreaming. With her eyes closed, Isadora whispered, "Good... night."

Moments later, the room fell silent, save for the steady, peaceful rhythm of her breathing.

She slept quietly, curled up like a kitten.

long while, then bent and pressed

"Goodnight, my Isadora."

carefully out from under

and left

stepped into the hallway, the softness in his gaze faded, replaced by a flash of cold

Mansion was like a fortress-grand and imposing, with its main house flanked by

commanding, dressed in black from head to toe. His footsteps echoed sharply in

garden, and paused at the door of a room in the

opened the door and

sat slumped in a carved wooden chair, looking drawn

suit she'd chosen that afternoon,

on

his pocket, his eyes cold

was ragged, hoarse.

laugh, his tone icy. "Would Pattie have dared act without your

been the matriarch of the Fitzgerald family, commanding respect-even Dorian Fitzgerald had deferred to her. No one had

raised with her own hands -would defy her, again and again, all for the sake of a

thought darkened her

what if I gave the order?" she

grew colder. After a long pause, his voice cut through the room

a finger on Isadora again. This is the last time I'll

sound broke the

the photograph of Dorian

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