PREVIEW

... ressive quiet from before. This was different.

This was the kind of quiet that settled in when a plan failed completely—when there was no one left to blame, no excuses left to make.

Mr. Grayson sat behind his desk, in the same spot where he’d once given orders, with full confidence, where he’d planned the downfall of the Nocturnes, piece by piece, through subtle infiltration and slow manipulation.

Now, all four pieces he had moved onto the board had crumbled.

Vinc ...

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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

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“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

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I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

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