Selene didn’t sleep.
She lay curled on Darius’s chest as his breathing evened out, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, chasing a storm she couldn’t outrun.
Dahlia Vex.
Not a codename.
Not a ghost.
A real woman.
With Darius’s blood in her veins and vengeance in her teeth.
She slipped out of bed just after 4 a.m., barefoot, wearing his shirt again, the hem brushing her thighs like a memory.
Downstairs, the penthouse was dead silent. Vincent sat at the kitchen island, drink untouched, the folder still open between them.
“She’s his sister,” Selene said softly.
Vincent didn’t flinch. “You’re sure?”
“I saw the eyes. The mouth. Same bone structure. Same rage.” She tapped the photo with a trembling finger. “But he didn’t know. He can’t have known.”
“Or he knew and ran,” Vincent m
