Cyril’s POV
I could still smell her on my hands. The scent of fear, and exhaustion. It reminded me of when Ella first came to the manor. I had carried her up to my room and stayed there until she fell asleep. Watching her chest rise and fall was the only thing that kept me from completely losing it.
When Marcus came in with the report, I already knew what he would say. I didn’t need proof. The moment he mentioned that the traced number led to the private wing, I knew who it was. I couldn't help but suspect her since she came throwing herself at me while her sister was missing.
Now, standing in the hallway outside her room, the guilt hit me harder than any wound ever had.
I had doubted her. I had treated her like a liar, an inconvenience, when she was the one being hunted under my roof.
