Seron and Acacia arrived at the villa just after dusk. The gates closed behind them with a hollow finality, and suddenly, it didn't feel like home. It felt empty. Seron stepped inside first, the silence pressing in on him from all sides.
The air still carried traces of Ruby, her calm, her warmth, the way she had turned cold marble into something alive. This was where she laughed softly in the mornings. Where she brought him coffee without being asked. Where she sat beside him, arranging his files with quiet devotion.
Their baby. The thought hit him like a punch to the chest. How did I let this happen? Regret clawed at him, sharp and merciless. Dinner came and went. He barely tasted it.
"This is nice," Acacia said brightly, setting down her glass. "I like it here much more than the penthouse." Seron didn't respond.
