Lucian POV
The click of the remote echoed louder than it should have in the stillness of my penthouse. The news anchor’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel, sharp, surgical, and cold.
“Fashion CEO Eloise Sinclair remains in critical condition after a shocking incident at Café Moira, an antique bookstore. Witnesses say—”
I didn’t hear the rest.
The glass in my hand tilted before I noticed. Water spilled across my thigh, soaking into the denim. I barely flinched. My eyes were locked on the screen, on her.
Eloise. As the paramedics moved her, her dress bloodstained.
Even unconscious, even bloodied, God, that dress—I knew her body like a confession I’d never stop regretting.
I placed the glass down. Too fast. It clinked hard, threatening to shatter, but stayed upright. My hea
