The sky was gray that morning. A small crowd gathered at Stonehollow Cemetery, standing in silence around a polished black casket. Rowan and Albert stood near the front, watching the coffin as it was lowered into the ground.
When the mourners began to leave, a young woman held her mother's arm, stayed, unable to tear her eyes from the coffin.
…
Inside Villa Dolan, Rosalba sat in her velvet Chesterfield armchair, shoulders straight and hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Only her eyes showed the sadness she was trying to hide.
A man in a suit stepped forward with measured grace and bowed slightly. "Madam, the Pierces have arrived."
The woman in her late fifties spoke softly but with authority. "Bring them in."
A woman standing silently beside her mother was mesmerized, when her gaze landing on Rowan, who stepped through the door first, followed closely by the others.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with jet-black hair slicked neatly back. His face looked sculpted, sharp and flawless, like a Greek statue brought to life. His amethyst eyes were sharp, dangerous, an aura of power that pulled her in despite herself.
She bit her lip as warmth flooding her cheeks.
Rosalba's eyes lingered on the men for a long, before she spoke. "Honestly, I won't offer coffee to any of you," she declared, eyes blazing with fury. "Bring her to me alive or I will come for her myself."
The words landed like a blade, followed by a mocking chuckle. It was the matriarch's second son, Nico Dolan, clearly amused by the tension in the room.
Victor clenched his jaw, struggled to hide his irritation. She had invited them, yet the moment they arrived, she greeted them with nothing but disdain.
His eyes flicked to his young master, who remained calm as ever.
"I honor the man who saved my wife, but don't mistake this for a joke."
He let the words hang in the air, his gaze steady and piercing as it locked onto her.
"If you're after the murderer, talk to the police. Yvette Windsor isn't with us."
"Don't play dumb!" Nico sprang up from his seat, lunging toward Rowan. Camela were fast enough to block him.
"Calm down!"
She gripped her brother's arm firmly, stopping him in his tracks. But her real purpose in stepping forward was to catch Rowan's attention—yet he didn't even glance at her.
Albert paid no attention to the hot-headed man as he spoke, "Mrs. Dolan, it was Yvette Windsor who shot James. My daughter-in-law is the victim here. Let there be no mistake about that."
Rosalba slammed the armrest and rose to her feet, pointing at them. "It should've been her in the ground, not my son!"
She couldn't accept that James had died protecting a woman who wasn't even his. She blamed Lyra more than anyone because James had taken the bullet for her.
"That's enough. James died because of his own choices. Don't twist the facts just to feed your frustration." Albert said with his usual calm.
"Who is she? Everyone's acting like her life matters more than anyone else's!" Camela snapped, unable to hide the jealousy burning inside her.
Rowan heard her but chose to ignore it, his gaze fixed solely on Rosalba.
"One more thing, Madam, you should remember that the root of all this is your son. He had bad intentions toward my wife from the very start."
He had tolerated the Dolans long enough for Lyra's sake. If they crossed the line again, he'd see to it they understood the consequences.
Rosalba gave a quiet snort, a faint smile curving her lips. "I find it hard to believe you're doing this out of love. Men change women as easily as they change their clothes. So tell me, what makes her so worth protecting? Or perhaps…"
Her gaze drifted toward Camela. "Would you prefer I offer you someone?"
"Eh—don't—umm." Damian, who had been silent all this while, cleared his throat awkwardly.
He couldn't stand the insinuation. Comparing his madam to Camela was like comparing heaven and earth.
Camela's mouth twitched in annoyance. Oh, she definitely heard that "don't" hiding in his cough.
Rowan and Albert exchanged a glance, a knowing look passing between them.
"Consider this a warning, Mrs. Dolan. If you attempt to deceive us or shift the blame onto my daughter-in-law, none of us will stand by in silence. If there's nothing further, we'll end this here."
As the four of them left the parlor, Camela and Nico sprang to their feet.
"How dare they insult us!" Nico shouted, flinging the cushion to the floor.
Camela dropped to her knees and clutched her mother's legs. "Mom, we have to avenge James!"
Rosalba stayed silent, she agreed with her children. Still, she knew she had to be careful with the Pierce family.
…
After Lyra woke from her long sleep, Alex refused to let her go home just yet. She needed to stay in the hospital a few more days to make sure she was truly stable.
One afternoon, Dora and Agnes came to visit. The moment Lyra saw them, tears welled up in her eyes—she'd made her grandmother worry too much.
"Silly girl, crying again?" Agnes teased with a soft laugh. "I'm tougher than I look. Right, Dora?" She gave Dora a little nudge, and Dora nodded quickly with a smile.
The room was filled with flowers and get well soon gifts from the hospital staff. Nora visited her every day whenever she had a spare moment. But Lyra hadn't seen Edris at all since that night.
When it was time for Nora to return to her shift and after Agnes and Dora had gone home, Lyra would be left alone in her room.
That was when Owen would quietly slip in to visit her. No matter how much she ignored him, he kept coming back. But one night, an unexpected guest arrived.