The air in the penthouse was different now, heavier than the night before. It clung to Raven’s skin like smoke, and no amount of steady breathing could shake it. The message still burned in her pocket, its words seared into her thoughts: Leave the past buried, or the next move will be irreversible.
Jaxon stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline haloing him in pale morning light. His bare chest rose and fell with measured calm, but Raven recognized the control for what it was, a mask, stretched tight over something dangerous and barely contained.
“Tell me exactly what it said,” he ordered, not turning around.
Raven hesitated, knowing full well that every word would sharpen his rage. “They know I found the records. They said Evelyn’s closer than we think.”
Jaxon’s jaw flexed. H
