. . . AUTHOR’S POV The once chaotic mansion had settled into an eerie stillness. A week had passed since that fateful night—the night fire had swallowed their enemies whole. The night that had left them all scarred in ways they had yet to understand. Adeline had barely left her room. She laid curled up in bed, her body wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, but it wasn’t just the blankets that held her. Vladimir refused to let go. The sixteen-year-old clung to her like a lifeline, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his head resting against her shoulder as he slept. For the first time in what felt like forever, they had been able to sleep peacefully. No nightmares. No fear. No waking up to the sound of gunfire or the cries of the dying. But peace didn’t mean heali