The late afternoon light spills across the penthouse in long pale stripes, soft enough that it almost feels warm. Almost. I sit on the edge of the guest bed with my knees pulled to my chest, trying to breathe through the tight knot behind my ribs. I have been restless for hours. Every time I close my eyes, I see Adrian’s smirk from old photos. Every time I blink, I feel the weight of the message, the shadow that stalked the hotel, the way fear coils inside me like a living thing.
Damian told me to rest, but the walls feel too close, too silent, too aware of my heartbeat. When I cannot endure sitting still any longer, I get up and wander into the hallway.
The penthouse is quiet except for the faint hum of the city far below. The quiet never used to frighten me. Now it feels like a pressur
