The mansion was quiet, eerily quiet.
After calming down the shaken Veronica, Alexander's face remained stony as he pulled out his phone and dialed Derek. His voice was sharp, clipped.
"Find out who wants Veronica dead. I want every piece of information, and I want it ASAP."
He didn't wait for a response. The call ended, and he turned on his heel, heading toward his bedroom. The house was quiet, the halls cold with silence.
As he reached his room, he shoved the door open, letting it swing shut behind him with a hollow thud.
Inside the bathroom, the cold tiles greeted his bare feet. He turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face, again and again, as if trying to scrub away the madness building in his mind.
When he finally lifted his head, he stared at the mirror, his face dripping. The man staring back at him looked like a stranger—eyes red, cheeks pale, jaw clenched with confusion, fury, and something far more dangerous.
