Chapter 77

“How rude can you be?” Cyrus’s words cut through the quiet hallway like a blade, each syllable dripping with barely restrained irritation.

Thomas halted mid-step, jaw tightening. He turned just far enough to interrupt Cyrus’s glare. “No is a no,” he said flatly, voice as cold and unwavering as steel, before pivoting again and striding away.

Relief washed over Thomas as he moved toward the warmth of his bedroom, imagining the soft rise and fall of his wife’s chest, the gentle glow of moonlight through the curtains. He felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease—until he sensed Cyrus trailing behind him, silent but insistent. Every step Thomas took, this looming presence followed, tightening the knot of annoyance in his gut. Finally, he whirled around, eyes blazing. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cyrus planted his feet, folding his arms defiantly across his chest, chin raised. “I have to make sure my sister is safe,” he said, voice low but fierce. “That person mi