I woke up with a plan.
Not a big plan. Not a dramatic escape. Just a small, quiet act of rebellion: I was going to leave the penthouse by myself.
Damian had left for the office before I got up. His guard stood outside the door, a wall of silence in a dark suit. I'd smiled at him as I passed, like I had every intention of staying inside. Then I waited until the elevator doors closed before I took the stairs.
The stairwell smelled like concrete and fresh paint. My sneakers echoed as I made my way down twelve flights. By the time I reached the lobby, my legs burned and my lungs ached, but I felt more alive than I had in days.
The doorman tipped his hat as I walked out. I half expected him to stop me, to call Damian, to drag me back upstairs. But he just held the door and said, "Miss."
Th
