Vera

Vera ran.

Not like a queen.

Not like a strategist.

Like a mother whose world had narrowed to one single door.

Her boots pounded against marble floors as alarms screamed through the estate. Guards flooded the corridors, weapons raised, voices overlapping in controlled chaos—but none of it mattered. None of it existed beyond the image burned into her mind.

A woman.

Standing in Vanessa’s doorway.

Smiling.

“Clear the hall!” Vera shouted. “No shots unless I say so!”

She ...