The morning light filtered lazily through the mansion, painting the marble floors with golden strokes. For once, the house was silent; Montez had left early, called into back-to-back meetings, and wouldn’t be home until late afternoon.

Amira knew this was her chance. She had been watching him for days; his sharp routines, the way his presence commanded the entire house, how every servant scrambled like frightened mice at the sound of his footsteps. He was untouchable.

...