Evangeline instantly flicked her gaze toward Jericho, searching her aunt's face for a silent answer.
Jericho sat completely still, her pale hand holding the porcelain teacup halfway to her lips. In her eyes lay the exact same suffocating suspicion. Was this an elaborate, fatal trap? What was the true motive behind this sudden, sickening generosity after Carlos had put Evangeline through utter hell during their first meeting?
Yet, both women knew the brutal, inescapable reality: they were standing squarely inside his domain. For now, they had no choice but to play by his rules.
Jericho set her teacup down with a quiet, deliberate click and let out a soft, heavy sigh that carried years of unhealed wounds.
"Go on, Eva," Jericho murmured softly, her tone carrying a cold, grounded weight. "You can go see Silver. My father cannot break an oath sworn upon his blood without taking the fallout... so go. I will stay here with him. Do not worry."
