Cyril’s POV
The pen in my hand moved across the pages of the ledger, but my mind wasn’t in it. I had been sitting here for hours, going over numbers I didn’t care about, lines of reports that blurred together. The room was silent except for the sound of the pen scratching against paper and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.
It was almost evening. Marcus had gone out since morning with strict instructions—to find out what Lora knew about the video of Ella and the guard, and how she’d gotten it in the first place. He was supposed to return at eight. It was barely six now.
I heard the door open without a knock. My head snapped up sharply. Marcus never entered my study without permission.
He was standing at the door, breathing hard, his eyes wide with something I couldn’t name ye
