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Venisa noticed the slight shift in the atmosphere after she had made her position clear. The conversation could easily have ended there, leaving the De Valcárcels with the impression that the Greymore family was unwilling to entertain their proposal. She had no intention of allowing that to happen.

After all, setting boundaries did not mean closing every door.

Venisa offered them a small, gracious smile.

"Perhaps, to make up for my rather direct response, I could offer you something more pleasant."

Doña Isabella looked at her with curiosity.

Venisa turned toward Alejandro.

"Count Alejandro, would you allow me to invite you to dinner this evening?"

Alejandro's expression softened with surprise.

"I would be honored."

"Then it is settled."

The dinner was arranged that same evening at one of the capital's most distinguished restaurants, a quiet establishment favored by noble families and important foreign guests. Venisa deliberately chose a private dining room rather than a crowded public table, allowing the evening to remain formal without feeling excessively ceremonial.

What could have become an uncomfortable meeting between two families gradually became something far more pleasant.

Venisa proved to be an effortless hostess. She spoke with Don Fernando about the De Valcárcel estates in Spain, asking thoughtful questions about their vineyards, agricultural lands, and commercial interests, while also sharing enough about the Greymore holdings to make it clear that she understood every part of the family business she had inherited.

She spoke with Doña Isabella about Spanish customs, architecture, and the differences between noble households in Spain and those in the capital. Her manner was respectful without becoming overly formal, and whenever the conversation threatened to become too serious, she knew exactly when to introduce a lighter remark.

Alejandro, meanwhile, found himself listening more than speaking.

He had already admired Venisa's composure, but seeing her navigate an entire dinner with such confidence gave him an entirely different impression of her.

By the end of the evening, the tension surrounding the proposed alliance had almost completely disappeared.

As the dinner came to a close, Don Fernando regarded Venisa thoughtfully while the servants cleared the final dishes from the table.

"You have handled this evening remarkably well, Lady Venisa."

Venisa gave him a polite smile.

"I am glad you enjoyed the dinner."

"That is not what I meant."

The Don leaned back slightly.

"I have met many young nobles who inherited their family's name and wealth. Very few carry the responsibility with the same understanding of what it means."

Venisa remained quiet.

Don Fernando glanced toward Alejandro before looking back at her.

"Your grandmother left the Greymore house in capable hands."

For the first time that evening, Venisa's expression softened.

"Thank you."

Don Fernando gave a small nod.

"I understand now why she spoke to my son."

Alejandro's gaze shifted toward his father, but Don Fernando continued before he could respond.

"She was not simply protecting the Greymore legacy. She was preparing you to carry it."

Venisa did not answer immediately.

She only smiled, accepting the compliment without allowing it to become too personal.

The meeting had begun with an engagement proposal that she had carefully kept at a distance.

Yet by the end of the evening, Venisa had accomplished something far more important.

She had made the De Valcárcels understand that the Greymore family was willing to open its doors to Spain—but those doors would open on Greymore terms.

By the time the De Valcárcel family finally departed, Venisa could feel the effects of the evening catching up with her. The private dining room had emptied, the last of the servants had cleared the table, and the quiet that followed seemed almost too loud against the dull spinning in her head.

She had drunk far more than she intended.

Perhaps it had been the wine served throughout dinner, or perhaps she had simply allowed herself to drink without paying attention while trying to maintain the perfect composure expected of a Greymore baroness. Whatever the reason, the moment she stood from her chair, the room seemed to tilt beneath her.

Venisa reached for the edge of the table.

"Oh, this is bad."

She tried taking a step, but her legs felt strangely unsteady, forcing her to catch herself against the chair.

By the time the De Valcárcel family finally prepared to leave, Venisa could already feel the wine catching up with her. She had remained composed throughout the dinner, carefully maintaining the dignity expected of a Greymore baroness, but the moment she rose from her chair, the room seemed to sway gently around her.

She placed one hand against the edge of the table and blinked slowly.

Perhaps she had drunk more than she realized.

Alejandro noticed immediately.

"Lady Venisa?"

"I am fine," she replied, though her voice lacked its usual certainty.

She attempted to take a step, only to stop when the floor seemed to shift beneath her feet.

Alejandro instinctively moved closer.

"You shouldn't drive in this condition. Allow me to take you home."

Venisa looked at him and gave a small shake of her head.

"That won't be necessary."

"Are you certain?"

"My brother will come for me."

Alejandro hesitated. "Your brother?"

"Tala."

She reached for her phone, already searching for his name.

"He can fetch me."

Alejandro studied her for a moment before giving a respectful nod. He did not press the matter.

"Very well. Then at least allow me to make sure you are safely settled before I leave."

Venisa gave him a faint smile.

"You have already done enough for tonight, Count Alejandro."

Doña Isabella watched the exchange with quiet amusement, while Don Fernando simply nodded, clearly pleased by the way Venisa handled the situation.

Alejandro offered his hand to steady her as she moved away from the table, but Venisa only lightly accepted the support before straightening herself again.

"I can manage."

"I know," Alejandro replied with a faint smile. "I simply don't want you falling."

Venisa almost laughed.

"That would be rather embarrassing."

"For a woman who managed to negotiate with my father over an entire evening, I doubt one unsteady step would ruin your reputation."

She gave him a sideways look.

"Careful, Count. You are beginning to sound like you are trying to charm me."

"Perhaps I am."

Venisa shook her head, though a small smile betrayed her.

She stepped away from the table and immediately reached for her phone.

"I'll call Tala."

The De Valcárcels began making their way toward the exit, leaving Venisa with her secretary nearby. As Alejandro passed her, he paused briefly.

"Goodnight, Lady Venisa."

"Goodnight, Count Alejandro."

He gave her one last courteous nod before following his parents out.

The moment the doors closed behind them, Venisa exhaled and leaned back against the table.

Her head was spinning now.

She stared at her phone for a moment before finally calling Tala.

The line rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then someone answered.

But instead of Tala's usual voice, Venisa heard heavy breathing on the other end.

Fast.

Uneven.

Almost as if he were running.

Venisa frowned and pulled the phone slightly away from her ear.

"Tala?"

There was a brief rustle, followed by another strained breath.

"Tala, are you there?"

His voice finally came through, breathless and unusually tense.

"Tala…"

Instead of an immediate answer, she heard something strange through the line.

Breathing.

Fast, uneven breathing, as though he were running.

There was also the faint sound of movement in the background, followed by what sounded like Tala struggling to catch his breath.

Venisa frowned.

"Tala?"

Still nothing.

She pulled the phone slightly away from her ear and stared at the screen before bringing it back.

"What are you doing?"

His breathing remained heavy on the other end.

"Tala, can you hear me?"

A few seconds passed the call died.

"Unbelievable," she murmured.

Nearby, Adrian remained with her, having noticed that she was in no condition to travel alone.

"My lady," he said carefully, "I don't think your brother is coming."

Venisa closed her eyes.

"Apparently not."

She leaned back in her chair, too dizzy to argue.

She blinked several times.

It was becoming difficult to focus.

"Adrian…"

Her voice was quieter than before.

Adrian immediately stepped closer.

"Yes, my lady?"

Venisa took a slow breath, trying to gather enough strength to speak clearly.

"Call someone."

"Who should I call?"

She tried to answer, but the words seemed to become tangled in her thoughts. Her eyelids grew heavier, and she finally let them fall shut.

"I… don't know."

Adrian's expression tightened with concern.

"My lady?"

"Just… call someone."

Her head tilted slightly against the back of the chair.

"I can't open my eyes anymore."

Adrian immediately took out his phone.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it."

Venisa barely heard him.

The sounds around her began to fade into something distant—the quiet movement of the restaurant, the faint clinking of glasses, Adrian's hurried footsteps as he moved away to make the call.

She tried to remain awake.

She really did.

But exhaustion and the alcohol pulled her deeper into the darkness behind her closed eyes.

And for the first time that evening, Venisa stopped fighting it.

Venisa woke with a heavy head and a dull ache behind her eyes, the remnants of the previous night's wine making even the smallest movement feel unpleasant. For several seconds, she remained still, her eyes closed as she tried to remember where she was.

Then she opened them.

The ceiling above her was unfamiliar.

Venisa slowly pushed herself upright, immediately realizing that this was not her room. She looked around, confusion settling over her face as she searched for anything familiar.

Not the Greymore estate.

Not Tala's place.

And certainly not somewhere she would have willingly chosen to sleep.

"Where the hell did that stupid Adrian bring me?"

Her voice came out hoarse.

She glanced around again.

The room was enormous, yet strangely minimalistic. There was no unnecessary decoration, no clutter, and no excessive display of wealth. Everything was arranged with deliberate simplicity—dark furnishings, clean lines, muted colors, and an almost unnerving sense of order.

It was, annoyingly enough, exactly the sort of room Venisa herself would have liked.

She pushed the thought away and swung her legs slowly over the side of the bed.

Then she noticed the mirror.

It was enormous.

It occupied a wide section of the wall directly opposite the bed, large enough to reflect almost the entire center of the room. It was positioned directly in front of the bed, meaning that anyone sitting in the middle of the mattress would see their reflection without having to turn around.

Venisa stared at herself through the glass.

Her hair was disheveled from sleep, her face pale, and the clothes she had worn the previous evening were still on her. She looked nothing like the composed Baroness Greymore who had entertained an entire noble family over dinner.

She frowned at her reflection.

Then something caught her attention.

Behind her.

Venisa's eyes slowly shifted upward.

In the mirror's reflection, just above the headboard, hung a large portrait.

She froze.

Her breathing became shallow.

She turned her head slightly, but she didn't need to look directly at it.

She already knew.

A strange chill traveled down her spine.

The portrait was enormous, occupying a significant portion of the wall above the bed. It depicted a woman seated with an unmistakable Greymore elegance, her expression calm, proud, and distant.

Venisa stared at the reflection.

At herself.

Then at the woman in the portrait.

Her stomach tightened.

"No…"

She slowly turned around.

There was no mistaking it now.

The portrait was hers.

A huge portrait of Lady Venisa Greymore hung above the headboard as though it belonged there, as though the room had been prepared specifically for her long before she ever stepped inside it.

Venisa stared at it in disbelief.

The realization finally settled over her.

This wasn't her room.

It wasn't Tala's.

And it wasn't some random guest room Adrian had found for her.

Someone had brought her here deliberately.

Her eyes returned to the mirror, where the enormous portrait remained visible behind her reflection.

A shiver ran through her again.

"Where am I?"