Jenna's pupils constricted slightly. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the hem of her blouse.

Ethan pulled a cigarette case from his suit pocket. The metallic click of his lighter echoed sharply in the quiet room. Wisps of pale smoke curled around his sharp features, making his hooded eyes appear even more unfathomable.

"Problem?" His deep voice rumbled as he exhaled a smoke ring.

Jenna shook her head hastily. "N-no."

Milo pushed open the door and froze at the sight of the man in the living room. "Mr. Roscente? No meetings today?"

"Finished early." Ethan tapped ash into the tray, his gaze fixed on the television screen.

Milo retreated into his room with practiced discretion. The click of the closing door sounded unnaturally loud in the silence.

The ashtray refracted light from the ceiling lamp. Ethan suddenly spoke. "New?"

"Pardon?" Jenna blinked.

"This." He rapped his knuckles against the glass vessel. "Your doing?"

The tips of Jenna's ears burned. "Last time I saw you flicking ashes into the flowerpot..."

Ethan stubbed out his cigarette without comment and stood. Silk fabric clung to his lean waistline as he disappeared into the master bedroom.

Only then did Jenna notice her damp palms. Three months of cohabitation, yet every private moment still felt like treading on thin ice.

Her phone vibrated. Tristan Ashcroft's name flashed on the screen.

"Can you report tomorrow?" Static distorted his voice.

Jenna bit her lip. "Mr. Ashcroft, I may need leave..."

"What?" Tristan's tone turned razor-sharp. "Your brother's surgery still needs $200k. Quitting now?"

"I found anomalies in my parents' crash footage." Her nails dug into her palms. "The autopsy shows cut brake lines."

Glass clinked on Tristan's end. He lowered his voice. "You're certain?"

"The medical examiner was my professor." Jenna glanced toward the master bedroom. "Keep this...from Mr. Roscente for now."