He had learned not to trust promises of outings.
Not to expect consistency.
I stood slowly. “I’ll talk to your dad about it.”
“Make sure you’re ready, okay?”
I softened my tone.
“And if the nightmares come...”
His fingers tightened slightly on the blanket.
“...if you’re ever scared to sleep alone...”
I stepped closer to the door. “My room is right next door.”
I turned the handle slowly.
“Door’s always open for you.”
He gave one small nod.
I forced a calm smile, the kind that concealed everything and revealed nothing — then turned and walked away from Yannis’s room.
I closed the door softly behind me.
The click of the latch felt heavier than it should have.
Instead of heading straight to the guest suite assigned to me, I deliberately took the long route — moving through the glass-walled balcony that overlooked the rear gardens.
I needed space.
I needed perspective.
Moonlight poured over the marble tiles, washing the estate in a pale silver glow.
I slowed my steps.
Not casually — observantly.
My eyes tracked upward first.
Cameras.
Too many.
Black domes tucked discreetly into the corners of the ceiling beams.
Tiny pinhole lenses embedded in decorative light fixtures. Motion sensors positioned along the balcony pillars. Infrared indicators blinking faint red like silent watchers.
Ruslan had always been paranoid.
Now I understood why.
He was a man who expected betrayal.
I stopped near the railing and leaned lightly against it, pretending to admire the garden below while mentally mapping every surveillance angle.
