CHAPTER 31

The cab pulled up to the edge of the narrow, cobblestone street, headlights cutting through the warm dusk settling over the quiet neighborhood. Ethan sat still for a moment, staring out the window at the modest two-story house with its fading lilac shutters and the porch light that always seemed to be on—like it was waiting for someone. Her house wasn’t the kind that made headlines or got photographed for architectural spreads, but it was the only place that had ever felt like it was built to hold love. Real love. Not duty. Not image. Not empire. He stepped out of the car and took a breath. The scent of baked spices and fresh rain lingered in the air—like someone had opened the windows while cooking dinner. His chest tightened. This was home. This was where he belonged, not the marble mausoleum of his family’s estate, where affection was transactional and silence screamed louder than any argument. The front door opened before he knocked. Pearl stood there, barefoot, hair pinned up