Alaric’s POV:

A few hours earlier:

“No, Mutti.” My voice was low, but I could tell it was still loud enough for Ingrid Ashford to hear. Her face gave nothing away as usual, but I noticed the slight twitch of her right eye.

“What do you mean ‘no’, mein herz?”

I pushed away from my desk, my fists clenched at my sides. “I mean exactly what you think I mean. We are not holding a memorial for a man who never so much as looked at you except when he was beating you to a pulp or ...