Luca hesitated, then nodded.

He turned and walked slowly toward the door.

The floorboards groaned under his weight.

Sophia watched him go, then turned her gaze back to me.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Elena,” she said.

“If he realizes what you have in your head, he will never let you leave this house.”

“He won’t let me leave anyway,” I said.

“But now, he has to keep me alive to get what he wants.”

I walked over to the desk and picked up the silver revolver.

It felt heavy and cold in my palm.

I did not point it at her.

I slid it into the pocket of my oversized wool coat.

“Thank you for the papers, Sophia,” I said.

“But I won’t be needing them.”

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the high ceilings of the estate.

The cold wind rushed up the stairwell, making the flames in the fireplace flicker.

I heard Marcus’s voice.

It was deep, calm, and entirely in control.

“Luca,” Marcus said.

“Where is my wife?”

The silence that followed was heavy.