Chapter 365

Victor stood by the club entrance, the cigarette between his fingers burned down to the filter. His dark eyes simmered with long-dormant fury as Adrian emerged from the doors.

Three years.

At last, he had clawed his way out of the abyss of grief.

"Back to the office, sir?" Victor crushed the cigarette and stepped forward.

Adrian adjusted his tailored suit, his sharp features schooled into impassivity. A glance at the neon-lit club, then his voice cut through the night air. "Investigate Christian's death."

Victor's pupils contracted.

The fire three years ago had consumed every shred of evidence.

"Understood." He swallowed his questions. "Let me drive you home first."

The black Maybach purred to life. Adrian lowered the window, letting the night wind rush in.

"Isabella has a man with a clover tattoo near her." His fingers tapped the leather seat. "He's Julian's assassin."

Victor's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Plant my father's photo in Vincent's study tonight."

A smirk curled Victor's lips. The reckoning was about to begin.

In the rearview mirror, Adrian watched the club recede. If he'd been wrong all along—how could he face the one buried deepest in his heart?

Evelyn pushed open the private dining room door. Under the crystal chandelier, Old Mr. Orlando sipped tea with evident pleasure.

"Grandfather Orlando." Her voice was clear as mountain spring.

The old man's eyes lit up. This Roland girl—master physician, lethal fighter—outshone any man.

"Come here, child." He beckoned with a smile. "Your grandfather's been boasting about you again."

Old Mr. Roland stroked his beard, smug.

Evelyn settled beside Scarlett. The moment her scent reached the sleeping toddler, tiny hands flailed toward her.

"Ungrateful little thing." Scarlett handed over the child with mock indignation. "Ditches her godmother the second Mommy appears."

Evelyn pinched her daughter's cream-smeared cheek. "Stole some cake again?"

"Tristan just fell asleep." Scarlett lowered her voice. "Called for you in his dreams."

Warmth flickered in Evelyn's eyes. Two more months, and both children would be running wild.

"Everything resolved?" Scarlett asked abruptly.

The memory of the escaped clover-tattooed man darkened Evelyn's gaze. "Mostly."

The elders exchanged glances and tactfully changed the subject. They knew—this woman had never needed coddling.