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With his silver hair and light grey eyes…

Bozkurt.

In Osmanlı mythos, it was said that wolves were their ancestors. Seeing a grey wolf on one’s path was a sign of good luck.

Killing a wolf, on the other hand, brought a curse upon one’s entire family line.

Not that Leila planned to have a family line…

So she wasn’t as apprehensive about being tasked with killing this wolf.

He was not the regular kind of wolf, anyway. He was more dangerous, more vicious, more predatory.

And she ought not forget that.

Even when her body screamed for her to get close to him.

Even when butterflies made laps and somersaults inside her stomach at a single glimpse of him.

Even when her soul recognized him as one of her own.

A wolf.

Her mouth went dry, and she forced herself to swallow before bringing her gaze back to the concerned faces surrounding her.

“What are the circumstances keeping you here?” someone asked.

“I mean, my husband’s circumstances,” Leila said, forcing her mind back to the conversation. “His health, and then his business obligations here. We were originally only supposed to stay a few days.”

“Well, it’s most unfortunate about your husband’s health,” Caroline said with genuine sympathy, “but perhaps it’s fortunate for us that we might be able to organize several charitable events for your cause.”

Elma clapped her hands together, her doe-like eyes lighting up with inspiration. “Oh! My husband is quite an accomplished painter. We could organize a charity auction on relatively short notice and invite other artists to contribute their paintings and sculptures as well.”

“Annalise!” the third woman exclaimed, turning to the golden-haired woman with such enthusiasm that her beautiful voice nearly carried across the entire ballroom. “Could you perhaps organize a musical evening? You’re such a skilled pianist, and I’m certain other ladies would be willing to donate their talents as well. I have none myself, so I won’t be able to participate—but I would be delighted to help organize.” Her hands fluttered as she spoke, emphasizing each word.

“That’s not true, Livvie,” Elma chimed in, reaching out to still Livvie’s restless hands with her own.

Livvie was a fitting name for such a lively woman, one with too much life in her to stand still. That one, Leila thought, she might finally remember.

“You create the most wonderful perfumes,” Elma continued. “That is an exceptional talent.”

Livvie’s cheeks colored prettily as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I suppose I could create some custom scents for the auction, though I’m much better at personalizing fragrances for individuals.”

“What do you think?” Caroline turned to Leila, and all eyes followed.

Such lovely women, with such dedication to helping a complete stranger.

She could only pray that she would be able to complete her primary mission before these generous events came to pass—so she wouldn’t have to deceive these kind-hearted women any further.

Leila forced a wide grin to her face. “That is wonderful. Thank you for your generosity.”

“If we band together, we might be able to pull off such an event soon. Perhaps with an Ottoman theme. What is your home life like? I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know much about your country,” Caroline said.

Leila swallowed, the memories of her home flashing before her eyes—briefly, as they were distant and scarce.

“It is beautiful. I lived right by the sea—”

Mid-sentence, Leila noticed Caroline’s demeanor shift. The Duchess’s features tightened almost imperceptibly, her expression becoming more guarded as she focused on something beyond Leila’s shoulder.