Naomi’s POV
The Montego Tower stood taller than I remembered—sharp, silver, soulless. A glass monument to power built on secrets and blood.
My reflection in the polished marble floor made me look confident—heels clicking, shoulders square—but inside, my heart pounded. Every step toward the private elevator felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss, whispers followed me like perfume.
She's back.
She's alive.
She's not supposed to be here.
I pressed the access key, and the doors slid shut. Floor 49, The only sound I could hear was the soft whirr of machinery.
Raymond stood beside me, His dark suit and calm expression strengthened me; I might have fallen without him because I don't know what I'd have done without him.
The guards didn’t stop me, Not after the name “Naomi Darlington
