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.

for a long while, then bent

"Goodnight, my Isadora."

moment, he slipped carefully out from under

and

the softness in his gaze faded, replaced by a flash

with its main house flanked by four smaller wings, all in

wing, his posture composed and commanding, dressed in black from

passed through a long corridor, crossed the back garden, and paused

opened the door and

carved wooden

the elegant, slate-grey suit she'd chosen that afternoon, but her face was ashen, her expression

didn't seem surprised to see Victor. Resting on her knees

one hand in his pocket, his eyes

voice was ragged, hoarse.

laugh, his tone icy. "Would Pattie have dared

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

with her own hands -would defy her, again and again, all for

thought darkened her expression

the order?" she snapped. "Victor, do you want

his voice cut through the room like a

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

sharp sound broke the

the photograph of Dorian at

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