The night had settled deep over Raaya Villa, wrapping the ancient stone halls in a hushed stillness broken only by the distant murmur of the sea and the occasional creak of settling timber. In his private chambers, Jake sat alone in a large armchair near the tall windows, a half-empty bottle of dark, spiced wine on the small table beside him.
The room was dimly lit by a few low-burning candles and the silver spill of moonlight through the open drapes. He had been drinking steadily since the afternoon, the rich liquid burning pleasantly down his throat and dulling the edges of his thoughts.
He had not heard from any of the women since morning—no word from Rosa, Chelsea, Elise, or Raani after he had left them in the dining chamber to discuss his intentions. The silence had grown heavier with each passing hour, feeding a restless unease beneath the haze of alcohol.
