The lake stretched endlessly beneath the moonlight.
Quiet.
Still.
Beautiful.
Yet the atmosphere on the balcony had changed completely.
Camille immediately noticed it.
Dante's expression rarely shifted dramatically.
He was too controlled for that.
Too disciplined.
Which made the subtle changes infinitely more alarming.
His jaw tightened.
His gaze sharpened.
And the calm warmth from moments earlier disappeared.
Not entirely.
Just enough.
Camille stepped closer.
"What happened?"
Dante looked at the message again.
The same seven words.
Don't trust Chanel Sinclair. She's expecting this.
No explanation.
No context.
Nothing.
Just a warning.
And somehow that made it worse.
Camille frowned.
"Who sent it?"
Dante looked toward the estate.
Toward the rooms where everyone had retired for the evening.
Then back to the screen.
"That's the problem."
"What do you mean?"
"This came from Adrian's secured account."
Camille's stomach tightened immediately.
