In a rather large mansion on the outskirts of the main city, nestled among sprawling estates and beautiful gardens that stretched for acres, peace reigned.
The mansion had a comfortable, homely vibe to it—warm lights in the windows, well-tended flower beds, the kind of place where generations of family had gathered for holidays and celebrations.
It was far enough from the city to be quiet, close enough to be convenient, and possessed an aura of calm that had settled into its very walls over decades of existence.
But tonight, there was no peace.
Nadia paced from one side of the room to the other, her footsteps measured but restless.
She had just finished her work and returned home, but instead of doing what anyone else would do—relaxing, watching television, perhaps preparing a meal—she was consumed by something far more pressing and her face was etched with concern.
Or rather, as close to concern as Nadia's face could get.
