A Dance with Danger

Chapter Twenty

**Estelle's POV**

Okay, something is wrong. Very wrong!

I've worked with Tiberius for three years, and in all that time, he's never stayed home during the day unless something significant was happening.

The man is always on the move-whether it's a meeting, a business deal, or one of his shadowy affairs that I'm only half aware of. But today... today, Tiberius hasn't left the mansion.

How do I know?

I woke up earlier than usual this morning, something I rarely do, but as soon as I opened my eyes, something felt off. Usually, Tiberius leaves at dawn-silent, methodical.

He slips away before the sun even rises, like a shadow creeping out of the house, leaving nothing behind but the faintest echo of his absence. But when I came downstairs today, his car was still parked in the driveway.

It wasn't like him. Not at all.

At first, I thought maybe he'd had a late meeting or something that was keeping him. But as the hours ticked by, my gut told me that this was different. By now, he would have left.

I'd hear the rumble of the engine, see the sleek black car pulling out of the driveway. The usual tension in the air as he prepped for another day of business, another day of controlling the world he had meticulously crafted.

But no. He was still here.

Something in my chest stirred, an uneasy feeling that I couldn't quite shake off. And for reasons I couldn't explain, I had the sudden compulsion to check on him.

I don't know why it felt urgent. But it did.

When I reached his room, the door was ajar. And that alone was enough to make my heart flutter with uncertainty. Tiberius always kept his doors shut, locked even-his privacy was something he guarded with an iron will.

The fact that the door was open, just a crack, felt... wrong. It was as though he had dropped a guard he never allowed anyone to see.

So, of course, I walked in.

It was almost absurd, the way everything in the room seemed suspended in time, like the house itself was holding its breath. The quietness wrapped around me in a strange, suffocating embrace.

And then, there he was-stretched out on the bed, his broad frame taking up nearly the whole of the massive mattress. The black silk sheets were half-draped over his chest, and his dark hair spilled across the pillow, disheveled and untamed.

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen, watching him.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his face softened by sleep. I don't think I'd ever seen him like this before.

Tiberius, always so controlled, so sharp, always a man who wore tension like a second skin. But now? Now, he seemed almost... human.

There was something unsettling about how relaxed he appeared-almost peaceful, though I knew it was just an illusion. Tiberius was never truly at peace, not with the weight of his responsibilities, not with the ever-present game he played with the world around him. But in this moment, his brow wasn't furrowed, his jaw wasn't clenched. He was still. Calm.

A rare sight.

I glanced down at the shirt in my hands. The one I had promised to return. But for a second, I hesitated. The quiet seemed to press against me, urging me to stay, urging me to witness this side of him that no one else got to see. This... softer side of Tiberius, a side he probably didn't even know how to express.