Zeraida found Xaviere sitting exactly where she anticipated he would be at this hour. His private executive study remained illuminated despite the late hour, the low light of the desk lamp falling across scattered corporate documents and financial ledgers.
He looked up immediately when she stepped into the room, his dark eyes narrowing at the unusual, resolute gravity on her face.
"We need to talk about Evelyn," Zeraida said, her voice cutting cleanly through the silence.
His distant expression shifted instantly, a guarded barrier descending over his features. "What has occurred?"
Zeraida walked steadily toward his mahogany desk, reaching out to place the photograph of the wrecked vehicle squarely between them.
"This envelope arrived at the estate today," she explained, keeping her posture straight.
