?Chapter 1512:


    He’d exhausted himselfpletely. The moment his head touched the pillow, sleep imed him, though it brought no peace—his brow creased repeatedly, and soft, unintelligible murmurs escaped his lips throughout the night.


    When pale dawn light finally crept through the windows, Ste dragged her aching body back to her own room, favoring her injured side with each step.AdChoicesADVERTISING


    Exhaustion crashed over her the instant she reached her bed. Her head had barely touched the pillow before sleep pulled her under.


    When consciousness returned, the sky outside zed with brilliant sunset colors.


    She grimaced as she pulled herself from bed and shuffled to the bathroom mirror. Dark bruises had already bloomed across her neck and arms in vivid purples and blues. When she turned around, she discovered even more angry bruising scattered across her back.


    She released a quiet sigh and applied ointment to the worst of the bruising. Then she pulled on a high-cored shirt to conceal the marks on her neck before making her way downstairs.


    The living room appeared untouched, serene and orderly. William’s destruction had been confined to his own room, and the servants had already erased every trace by morning, as if the violence had never urred.


    William sat motionless in the dining room. Steam rose from the fragrant dishes covering the table, but his cutlery remained untouched beside his te.


    He wore an impable suit, his hair styled with precision, his face a mask of careful neutrality. He’d transformed back into the cold, controlled William she’d known before—as if he could simply button upst night and pretend it away.


    Ste took her seat at the opposite end of the table. A servant appeared at her elbow and silently ced utensils before her.


    Neither spoke. Only the asional soft clink of silverware against porcin punctured the oppressive silence stretching between them.


    Finally, Ste set down her ss with deliberate care. She lifted her head and met William’s gaze, weighing each word before speaking. “Does what happenedst night… does it happen often?”


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    She’d already witnessed two episodes since moving into the vi.


    She had no way of knowing if things had been even worse before she’d arrived, or if her presence had somehow triggered something.


    William’s hands stilled on his knife and fork for a fraction of a second, but he refused to lift his gaze from his te.


    Ste drew her lips into a tight line before she spoke again. “You need to see a psychologist. This can’t continue.”


    Destroying objects was merely the first stage—if this darkness continued to spread, he might eventually turn that violence against his own body.


    There was no shame in seeking professional help.


    The moment those words left her mouth, William dropped his silverware. Metal struck ceramic with a harsh, echoing ng.


    He raised his gaze to meet hers. The crimson fury that had consumed his eyes the previous night had disappeared, leaving behind only a sheet of cial coldness.


    “What I do isn’t your concern.”


    Though his voice remained level, it carried the weight of absolute indifference.


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