The Bell 407 helicopter’s rotors whirred to a standstill as Seven killed its engine and stepped onto the manicured lawn of The Cliffs. It was a sunny mid-morning, save for some passing clouds. The air was brisk, a crisp 43 degrees, but Seven’s thoughts were far from the tranquil surroundings. He adjusted his black Michael Kors leather racer jacket, the weight of the previous night’s events pressing heavily on his shoulders. He had just returned from giving Angus his acupuncture treatment; the real challenge awaited him inside.

  As he strode toward the estate, his military-grade boots clicked against the stone pathway. The formal dining hall loomed ahead, its French glass doors slightly ajar. Inside, the sounds of chatter hinted at the gravity of the meeting to come. Seven paused at the threshold, taking a moment to steady himself before he pushed the doors open.

  The hall fell silent as he entered. All eyes were on him.

  Seven greeted everyone, shrugged off his jacket, draped it over the chair, and took his seat. His posture was rigid, but his expression remained calm. He knew this gathering would be a minefield; he was prepared to navigate it.

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  Huma, realizing her precious granddaughter was not with Seven, broke the silence. “Where is Princess? Why isn’t she with you?”

  Kasra cleared his throat, his tone measured. “Sana and Seven had a misunderstanding last night. She broke up with him. She’s holed up in her room.”

  Seven’s jaw tightened, but he kept his composure as he explained: “I was drugged at the Christmas party last night. Sana offered to have intercourse with me, but I turned her down. She misunderstood my intentions and thought I chose Natasha over her. That wasn’t the case.”

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