Glen's footsteps echoed through the marble-lined hallway of the Duke's extravagant mansion, each step bouncing off walls cluttered with portraits of pompous ancestors. His eyes cut sharply across the space, every room, every door, every servant who bowed their heads and avoided his gaze. His chest tightened. Anxiety was creeping in, panic lacing every breath, fear crawling up his spine. Something had happened to Etien.
He knew the party felt off. But he hadn't expected the distraction, the dancers twirling and smirking like stage sirens, to be so calculated. He thought the trap was meant for him. But he was wrong. It wasn't him they were after. It was Etien.
"Why the hell didn't I see this coming?" he muttered, voice heavy with regret.
He remembered how red Etien's face had been just before he vanished with Duke Elias Mason. But the blush wasn't from anger, shame, drunkenness, or even the chill in the air. No, it was something else entirely.
