(POV de Hunter)

Early mornings at the villa always had a peculiar stillness, as though the world itself held its breath. The air carried a faint chill, crisp with the remnants of the snowstorm from the night before. I stood in the hallway outside Roman’s study, ready to report on Hazel Walsh.

The moment I raised my knuckles to knock on the study door, a movement caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Roman was exiting Scarlett’s room.

The door closed softly ...