For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Alexander's gaze darkened, and something cold and final passed over his features.
He pushed back his chair and stood up, towering over her. He gave a short, humorless scoff.
"She doesn't need my protection," he said flatly, and without another word, he turned and strode toward the door.
Veronica sat there, stunned, unable to move.
Her mind whirled.
What did he mean?
Why does he say she doesn't need his protection?
Did he... already save her?
Fear, confusion, and jealousy flooded her at once.
The possibility that Aurora had somehow escaped the fate they planned for her — or worse, had caught Alexander's attention again — gnawed at her heart like acid.
As the door closed behind him with a final click, Veronica was left sitting alone at the table, her world tilting dangerously.
She dug her nails into her palm under the table, the sharp sting grounding her swirling thoughts.
