The penthouse felt different after the phone call with Liam. The air was still thin, the luxury still suffocating, but there was a jagged spark of electricity running through my veins that hadn't been there before. As I walked into the dining room, I felt like a soldier entering a minefield, every step calculated, every breath a performance.
Jason was waiting. He didn't look like a monster. He looked like a successful man enjoying a quiet lunch in his kingdom. The table was set with chilled gazpacho and poached salmon—light, elegant, and entirely tasteless to me.
"Sit, darling," he said, gesturing to the chair beside him. "How was the clinic? Thorpe mentioned the scans were a bit grueling."
I sat, keeping my movements fluid despite the ache in my joints. "It was... loud. The machine is
