The courtyard of Riley Styles' mansion was silent.
Too silent.
Rainwater still dripped from the stone edges of the surrounding structures after last night's storm.
The clouds above remained dark and heavy.
And at the center of the courtyard...
Mara Reed sat trembling in a chair.
Her wrists were restrained.
Not tightly.
Not cruelly.
Because she had already stopped trying to run.
Several armed men stood around the perimeter.
Watching.
Waiting.
And beside them...
Ethan leaned calmly against one of the courtyard pillars.
Arms folded.
Expression unreadable.
But Mara wasn't looking at Ethan anymore.
No.
Her eyes remained fixed on the man slowly walking toward her.
Riley Styles.
The Cold Prince.
She had worked in the same company as him for years.
Seen him in meetings.
Seen him in hallways.
Seen the cold professionalism that made employees fear and admire him simultaneously.
But this version of Riley...
Terrified her.
Because there was no visible anger.
