The wind outside Mauritius’ lair howled like a wounded beast, a storm rolling in from the horizon.

Inside, the atmosphere was far calmer, yet a storm of a different kind brewed within the walls.

Violet sat in the corner of the dimly lit study, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and conflict.

The room was rich with the scent of aged leather and mahogany, a silent testament to Mauritius’ taste for the finer things.

She’d been sitting there for what felt like hours, waiting for him to return, trying to process everything that had happened.

The door creaked open, and Mauritius stepped in, his presence filling the room instantly.

He looked different—there was a hardness in his eyes that Violet hadn’t noticed before.

The events of the past few days had left their mark on him too.

“Violet,” he said quietly, walking over to her.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something in his voice, a softness that didn’t match the image she had of him.

“It’s fine,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I had some time to think.”

He nodded, pulling up a chair to sit across from her. The silence between them was heavy, neither knowing quite what to say.

It was Mauritius who finally broke it.

“You saved my life,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t take that lightly.”

Violet swallowed, the memory of pulling the trigger still fresh in her mind.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she admitted. “I couldn’t let him kill you.”

Mauritius leaned back, studying her.

“I’ve always thought of you as someone who would never get their hands dirty. Someone too good, too…

innocent for this world.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “I’m not so innocent anymore.”

He tilted his head, observing the change in her. “No, you’re not.

But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost who you are.”

Violet looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “What does that mean?

I killed someone, Mauritius.

How can I go back to who I was?”

Mauritius leaned forward, his voice gentle yet firm.

“You did what you had to do. Sometimes, the world forces us to make impossible choices.

It doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person. If anything, it shows your strength.”

His words settled over her like a blanket, offering a comfort she didn’t expect.

But there was still something nagging at her, something she needed to understand.

“Why did you send me the money?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why… why did you care?”

Mauritius hesitated, the walls he had built around himself wavering.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

“Maybe I saw a part of myself in you. Maybe… I didn’t want you to suffer in a way that I’ve suffered.”

Violet’s breath hitched as she realized the depth of his words.

She had always seen him as the villain, the manipulator, but there was something more—something she hadn’t allowed herself to see.

“I want to help you,” she whispered.

“I don’t know how, but… I want to.”

Mauritius smiled, a sad, weary smile that spoke of years of hidden pain. “You already have,” he replied softly. “More than you know.”

For the first time, Violet felt a connection with him that went beyond their complicated history.

It was fragile, like a delicate thread, but it was there.

And it scared her more than anything else.

They sat in silence for a moment, the storm outside raging against the world.

Mauritius looked at her, his expression unreadable. “There’s something I need to show you,” he said, standing up and offering his hand.

She hesitated before taking it, the warmth of his touch grounding her.

“Where are we going?”

“To visit the graves,” he replied, his voice was low.

“I think it’s time you saw the reality of what this life does to people.”

Violet’s heart tightened as she followed him out of the study, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.

But as they walked side by side through the dark corridors, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was walking towards something inevitable—

something that would change her forever.