Eliara's POV
Rain fell in sheets against the tall windows of Jasail’s penthouse, blurring the skyline of New York City like a water-stained painting. I stood before the glass, arms wrapped tightly around my waist, trying to keep myself from unraveling. Behind me, the silence stretched uncomfortably, thickened by the weight of too many unspoken truths.
Naomi sat on the edge of the oversized sofa, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the clean lines and cold marble that screamed power and distance. “It doesn’t feel like a home,” she finally said, breaking the silence.
I turned my head slightly to look at her. “It’s not. It’s a fortress.”
Naomi’s brows furrowed. “You mean prison.”
I didn't respond. What can I say? Naomi hadn’t been here in days. She didn’t know how the walls whispered a
