Chapter 72

Every eye in the room turned toward the entrance. Juliet looked up instinctively and froze. Her fork slipped from her hand, clattering sharply against the porcelain plate. A tall, commanding figure was walking toward them. Despite the biting cold outside, the man wore only a thin jacket, looking travel-worn and exhausted. His hair was disheveled, and a faint shadow of stubble traced his jaw. It was obvious he had been traveling through the night. Yet none of it diminished his undeniable presence. His dark eyes, sharp and hawk-like, swept the room with a somber, predatory intensity. It was Asher. Why was he here? Juliet's pupils constricted in shock. She instinctively tried to stand, the urge to flee rising, but a firm hand pressed against her shoulder. "Don't move," Zachary said, his voice calm and grounding. "You don't owe him anything. There's nothing to be afraid of." He guided her gently back into her seat and set a glass of warm water in front of her. Trying to break th