The atmosphere in the Thorne Penthouse was brittle enough to snap. For three days, Elara had felt like she was living in a high-end prison. There were two new guards stationed at the elevator, and the nanny, Mrs. Higgins, had been replaced by a stern woman named "Greta" who looked like she could disassemble a glock in five seconds flat.
"Lucian, this is ridiculous," Elara argued, pouring coffee in the kitchen. "You’re treating us like we’re in witness protection. I can’t even take Mia to the park without a security detail that looks like a SWAT team."
Lucian stood by the window, peering through the blinds. He hadn't slept more than two hours a night. "The park isn't safe, Elara. Not right now."
"Why?" she demanded, slamming her mug down. "Because of 'corporate raiders'? Lucian, stop lyi
