Rose’s POV

The room was small but luxurious—a private living space in effect. The soft, plush chairs. The stocked bar. The gleaming, modern fireplace casting shafts of dancing light around the walls.

And Victor wasn’t alone. A man sat before him. Older, silver in his temples and wearing a bespoke suit screaming wealth and power. Fingers tapped on the armrest of the chair, his expression impassive.

Victor leaned against his chair, reclining in his position—but I knew better.

He ...