Chapter 253: The Beginning of War
Samuel's POV
As I stepped through the grand doors of Roselle's mansion, I already felt the finality in my stride. This would be the last time I'd stand under the same roof as her—not as an ally, not even as a guest.
The next time fate would draw us together, swords would be raised, not glasses. We both knew it. And perhaps... that's why she had that bottle of our favorite aged scotch already waiting on the table.
She stood by the window, dressed in obsidian black, the sunlight glinting off her long dark coat like polished steel. Her presence still commanded every inch of the room, just as it had the first time we met. Cold. Calculating. Ruthless. And yet, in her silence, there was something... almost human.
I walked in, slowly, my boots echoing across the marble.
"You knew I'd come," I said, voice calm but firm.
She didn't turn. "Of course. You're predictable that way, Samuel." Then she finally looked back, eyes sharp. "But this time... you're not here to bargain or threaten, are you?"
I nodded slightly. "No. Just a visit. A thank you."
She raised a brow. "Thank you?" She poured two glasses, pushed one toward me across the glass table. "I never imagined hearing that from the so-called Harbinger of Destruction."
I picked up the glass, took a slow sip, and let it burn its way down.
"I said I'd make her life a living hell," I murmured. "And you helped. You gave me the leverage, the power plays, the stage... all of it. And Abigail Bardot—well, she got what she deserved."