The dining room was quiet except for the scrape of forks against porcelain. Shadows flickered across marble walls from the chandelier overhead, giving the whole evening an edge that I couldn't shake.

Ace sat at the head of the table, his presence heavy, commanding. He barely touched his food, his wine glass in hand, gaze moving over his siblings like a ruler surveying his kingdom.

Halfway through the silence, he spoke. "Lucas will be joining us for dinner tomorrow."

The words hit me like a blade. My fork froze midway to my mouth. The taste of food turned to ash on my tongue as my chest locked up. Wide eyes betrayed the fear I fought so hard to bury. In an instant, I was no longer sitting at the table—I was back there, hearing his voice.

"No one will save you, little one. Not from me."

The phantom of Lucas's hand made me flinch. My stomach twisted violently, nausea pressing against my throat.

Alex, seated to my right, noticed first. "You okay?" His tone was careful, protective. Matt frowned, setting down his fork. The twins exchanged glances, tension sparking in their usually playful eyes.

But Ace... Ace didn't miss a thing. His gaze locked onto me, dark and unreadable. The tiniest twitch of his jaw betrayed his irritation—or was it anger?

I forced myself to lower the fork, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. I tried to breathe, to appear normal, but I knew it was too late. They had seen. And Ace's eyes, sharp as blades, told me he would be demanding answers later.