ERIC CONNOR.

ITALY.

*꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎*

I’ve had that bitter feeling something was about to happen. By now, I’m starting to regret leaving Violet alone. Her phone won’t stop ringing — endless missed calls, unread messages, unanswered questions. But this isn't the time for regrets. Not now. Not when I need clarity more than anything.

Frustrated, I roughly grab my brown hair like maybe pulling at it could tear out the guilt along with it. Nothing makes sense. Nothing seems to have a coherent explanation.

Just when I think everything’s completely lost, some kind of sign falls from the sky. Half an hour later, my car pulls up in front of Connor Mansion.

I step out and look ahead. Two women are waiting by the entrance — serious, firm. I take a deep breath before opening the door.

My steps are slow, almost deliberately so. Like I want to delay the inevitable. I climb the stairs with care, fully aware of the icy blue gaze piercing