Gregoris closed the door to his office with such care that it appeared the room might explode if he handled it incorrectly.
The monitors were still running behind him, crawling through data, peeling back encryption layers, and sending a live transfer to Damian. The work would keep grinding through the night whether Gregoris watched it or not. Ether-powered systems didn't need sleep, and neither did empires.
But Gregoris did something rare anyway.
He stopped.
He stepped into the corridor outside his office, and the mansion immediately felt like a different world.
Gregoris took two steps, and the house rewarded him with the one sound he actually wanted.
A laugh. Small, bright, unrestrained.
Natalie.
Four years old and already dangerous because she had inherited Rafael's gift for turning emotion into leverage and Gregoris's complete lack of shame about enforcing boundaries like law.
