The same table where Frank sat when William shot him.
I should be horrified by that. Should feel something dark and twisted at the thought of what we did in that room, on that furniture, with the scrubbed-clean wall three feet away. Instead, all I feel is a strange sense of arousal.
I leave the bathroom before I can think about it too much.
The corridor is bright with late morning sun. I've slept longer than I meant to, my body finally giving in after days of restless half-sleep. Through the tall windows, I can see Aidan's gardens, the hedges trimmed sharp, roses climbing a stone wall that looks centuries old.
It's beautiful here. Peaceful in a way that feels almost obscene given everything that's happened.
I make my way downstairs, following the smell of coffee and something baking. The kitchen is warm when I reach it, sunlight pooling across the stone floor, and the woman standing at the counter turns when she hears me enter.
Dark hair falling past her shoulders. Blue eyes that hold something careful underneath the warmth. She's wearing leggings and an oversized cardigan, her feet bare on the tiles.
Aidan's fiancée. Raven.
I look at her build. The narrow shoulders. The delicate wrists. About my height, maybe slightly shorter.
"Thank you for the loan." I gesture at myself. "The clothes."
She smiles, and it reaches her eyes. "You're welcome. I thought we might be close enough in size." Her gaze travels overthe blouse. "Though that one runs small. I should have warned you."
"It's fine." I cross to the kettle, grateful for something to do with my hands. "Better than what I arrived in."
I fill the kettle and set it to boil. Raven moves to the cupboard and retrieves a second mug without being asked, setting it beside mine.
"How are you settling in?" she asks.
It's such a normal question. The kind of thing you'd ask a houseguest, not someone who's been hiding from a Bratva hit while her father recovers from a bullet wound and her brother schemes in the next wing.
"I'm managing." I watch the kettle rather than look at her. "It's strange. Being in someone else's space."
"I know what you mean." She leans against the counter, arms folded loosely across her chest. "When I first came here, I didn't know which rooms I was allowed to enter. Which cupboards I could open. It took months before it started feeling like somewhere I belonged."
"And now?"
"Now it's home." She says it simply. Like it's an obvious thing. "Aidan made sure of that."
The kettle clicks off. I pour water over tea leaves and watch the color bloom.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
I turn to face her properly.
"What's it like?" I ask. "Loving someone in this world?"
Her expression shifts. Something flickers behind her eyes, there and gone.
"Complicated." She takes her time with the word. "Aidan is the most romantic man I've ever known. He plays guitar.Collects vinyl records." A small smile. "He's also capable of things that would terrify most people."
"I watched William kill his uncle."
"I know." No shock. No horror. Just acknowledgment. "Aidan told me."
"I was terrified." The admission comes out before I can stop it. "When it happened. How cold he was. How his face didn't change."
Raven nods slowly.
