LISA’S POV
The word “murder” haunted me long after Melanie disappeared into the shadows of the Velvet Room.
Mine.
They wanted to erase me like I was nothing but a name on paper. A balance sheet. A signature.
Not a woman.
Not a legacy.
Not blood and bone.
But they forgot—when you try to bury a woman like me, she comes back with a shovel.
And a list.
The elevator doors slid open to my penthouse with a soft ding.
Liam didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
He watched me like he was memorizing the way I moved—too slow, too rigid. Like pain clung to me, just out of reach. He followed me down the hall in silence as I kicked off my heels and unbuttoned my blazer.
The blood had dried against the bandages he’d wrapped earlier.
Still, I felt cold.
Colder than I had in years.
"Say it," I mur
