Florian's body moved before he could think. His heart pounded against his ribs, breath caught somewhere between his throat and lungs as he shoved the door open and stepped into the dimly lit hallway.
'Scarlett's scream—'
It could only mean trouble.
His eyes swept over the corridor, searching frantically for any sign of danger. Was it an assassin? An ambush? Some hidden threat lurking in the shadows? His muscles tensed, ready for a fight—
Then he saw her.
Scarlett stood just a few steps away, one hand clutching the fabric of her gown, the other resting over her chest as if trying to steady her heartbeat. But she wasn't hurt. She wasn't even panicked. She just looked… stunned.
Florian's brows furrowed. Confusion replaced urgency.
"Scarlett, what happened? Are you okay?"
Scarlett didn't answer immediately. Her gaze was fixed on someone standing in front of her, lips slightly parted in what could only be described as sheer disbelief.
Florian followed her stare—
