Svetlana walked down the long corridor, lost in confusion and doubt. The tall columns adorned with golden details seemed to close in around her, as if the mansion itself were trying to trap her within its labyrinth of shadows and secrets. Her footsteps echoed through the silence, and her mind swirled with questions. Was what Dante had said true? Could she really leave whenever she wished, or was this just another one of his control games?

The man escorting her remained impassive, eyes straight ahead, posture rigid. But before they reached their destination, a figure stepped into their path. Fiorella, exuding an air of superiority, blocked the way. Her dark eyes swept over Svetlana from head to toe, dripping with disdain.

Svetlana met her gaze without flinching, a flicker of rage igniting in her chest. She couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, hard and sharp:

“Liar.”

Fiorella raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Excuse me? Are you talking to me?” Her tone was cu