The city lights blurred through the windshield as Suzanne drove home, her thoughts tangled in a web of conflicting emotions. The warmth of David's concern lingered, wrapping around her like a protective shield. She hadn't realized how much she needed someone to lean on until he'd sat beside her in the café, his steady presence anchoring her through the storm.
But as she neared the house, the bubble of solace began to dissolve. The sight of her home—a cold, sprawling estate that felt more like a prison than a sanctuary—tightened her chest. Andrei was waiting inside. He always was.
Suzanne parked the car and stepped out, her heels clicking against the stone driveway. The air was heavy, a quiet stillness settling over the night. She paused at the front door, steeling herself. Every time she walked through these doors, she felt like she was slipping into a role, a performance meant to placate Andrei's ego while she plotted his downfall.
