THE ESTATE LOOMED AHEAD LIKE A FORTRESS—or a very expensive prison, depending on how Mailah chose to look at it.
The security team had already arrived. She could see them moving along the perimeter like ants, installing additional wards and surveillance equipment.
Lucson was on his phone barking orders.
Mason had disappeared to "analyze the nightmare residue" from the crime scene.
Ravenson was documenting everything.
Carson was suggesting increasingly ridiculous security measures that everyone was ignoring.
And Grayson was... impossible to read.
One moment he was holding her hand, looking at her like she was the only thing keeping him anchored. The next, he was cold and tactical, discussing her safety in the same tone he'd use for work meetings.
Mailah's head was spinning, and not in a good way.
"I need..." she started, then stopped. "I'm going to the bedroom. Your bedroom. Where you said I should stay because of the wards."
