The heavy oak door to Caroline's chamber creaked open under Herick's hesitant push.
The room was a sanctuary of opulent shadows, lit by flickering candles that danced across velvet drapes and a massive four-poster bed draped in crimson silk. The air hung thick with the scent of jasmine incense and something darker, more primal—her perfume, laced with the promise of control.
Caroline lounged on a throne-like chair near the hearth, her lithe form clad in a sheer black gown that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her golden hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her blue eyes fixed on him with predatory intensity. Hayden took his father back to their mansion, leaving her a bit disappointed.
But at that moment, she realized—why not play with Herick? He must be feeling left out without her.
