Chapter 5
The grand dining hall fell into a heavy, echoing silence, broken only by the ragged breathing of Miles Hawthorne. The opulent surroundings—the gilded mirrors, the ivory candles, the fine porcelain—felt utterly detached from the brutal betrayal that had just been exposed. Victor turned his broad shoulders away from the doors and focused his attention back on his brother.
Miles slid down the side of the carved walnut sideboard, his legs finally giving out from the exhaustion of three days locked in the dark. He hit the cream marble floor with a heavy thud, clutching his stomach.
Eva rushed forward instantly. Her sophisticated black maid dress pooled around her as she knelt beside the young man. She disregarded the strict rules of her station, her hands flying to loosen his collar. "Miles, look at me," Eva said gently, her delicate features pinched with deep concern. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Did she hit you?"
"I'm just... so thirsty," Miles rasped, his head falling back against the wood. "And tired."
Victor stood over them, looking down at his younger brother. The harsh, angular lines of his face softened infinitesimally. He crouched down, the tailored fabric of his dark three-piece suit pulling tight across his masculine frame. His artistic tattoos stood out sharply against the clean white marble as he rested a hand on Miles’s shoulder.
"Do you require a doctor immediately, Miles?" Victor asked, his deep voice carrying a rare, restrained tenderness.
"No, I just need rest," Miles answered, offering his brother a weak, exhausted smile. He turned his head to look at Eva, his eyes filled with immense gratitude. "If she hadn't heard me... if she hadn't opened that bolt, I would have suffocated in there by morning. Celeste sealed the air vents."
Victor’s sharp jawline tightened dangerously at the revelation. He shifted his gaze from his brother to the beautiful maid kneeling beside him. Eva’s expressive eyes met his, and the quiet, mutual affection between them flared into something undeniably profound. She had not only served his household impeccably; she had just saved his remaining family.
"Did you know how dangerous it was to disobey her warning glance, Eva?" Victor asked, his voice dropping into an intimate, velvet register.
Eva’s fair, rosy cheeks flushed. She kept her hands folded carefully in her white apron, her vulnerability shining through. "I couldn't just walk away, sir. I knew someone was in trouble. I didn't care what she would do to me."
"Are you entirely unharmed?" Victor asked, his dark eyes scanning her delicate face for any sign of fear or injury.
"I am fine, Victor," Eva whispered, dropping his formal title in the heavy emotion of the moment.
Victor held her gaze for a long second, his heart hammering against his ribs in a way it hadn't in years. He stood up, offering his hand to his brother. "Will you allow me to help you to your quarters so you can sleep, Miles?"
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Miles took his brother's tattooed hand and pulled himself up, swaying slightly. "Yeah. But Victor... you need to find the mole. She said he’s one of your inner circle."
"Do you think anyone in this house will sleep until the traitor is found?" Victor asked softly.
