467 Margaret’s phone buzzed again, jolting her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, expecting another urgent update from Whitaker or Maelstrom. But when her eyes landed on the name flashing across the screen, her entire body stiffened. Julius Wettin. Her nephew. Her wicked nephew.
468 --- Meanwhile, in the dimly lit waiting room of the hospital, Zoe sat on the edge of a plastic chair, her hands trembling in her lap. The events of the past few days had turned her world upside down, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Darwin’s face—unconscious and vulnerable. She ne
469 Zoe’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded wildly as her wide eyes locked onto the man entering the room. She stumbled back, gripping the edge of the table for support. “Darwin?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. At her trembling question, the man paused, his lips curling into a bemused s
470 “I told you, I don’t know!” Zoe cried, tears brimming in her eyes. She turned to Julius, her voice trembling with desperation. “Please, you have to believe me! I would never betray Darwin—I’d never hurt him!” Julius tilted his head, studying her with an unreadable expression. “Interesting,” h
471 Lady Margaret's heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she led Zoe out of the building. The tension between them was palpable, the silence thick enough to suffocate. Zoe’s hands trembled as she tried to keep up with the older woman’s brisk pace. At the front entrance, Lady Margaret
472 Lady Margaret’s heels clicked sharply as she ascended the grand staircase of the estate, her movements poised and deliberate. Zoe trailed behind her, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Her mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. What would Margaret do to her? Was she even safe he
473 Margaret hesitated, her icy facade cracking ever so slightly. Her gaze turned to Zoe, who was now a trembling, sobbing mess on the floor. The younger woman’s fear was palpable, and for a brief moment, Margaret’s cold demeanor softened, though she masked it quickly. “That’s enough,” Margaret s
474 ### At the Wettin Estate Lady Margaret reclined in her study, a glass of red wine in hand. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow on the luxurious furnishings. Stacks of dossiers lay on the polished oak desk before her, but her attention was fixed on a particular one marked *Oak