POV: Adriana
I followed a few steps behind Darius and his mother, trying not to let my nerves and fear show.
Florence Wolfe walked like a queen with her chin up, back straight, her heels clicking on the tiled floor with a steady rhythm. I wasn’t sure if she was intentionally walking that fast, or if her stride just naturally demanded people keep up or get left behind.
I stayed close to Darius. I didn’t dare grab his hand, but his presence was a shield like a big, solid wall I was grateful to hide behind—I wasn’t sure he even knew I was using him as a human shield right now.
The first thing that came to mind as soon as we entered the dining room was: This room was a work of art.
I immediately spotted two men seated at the long, dining table. One of them looked exactly like an older
