The city thinned at dawn, and the mansion inhaled light like a held breath finally released. After the day’s turmoil the house felt both sacred and fragile—a place where strategy and tenderness coexisted like two narrow stairways that ran side by side but never quite met. I woke with the imprint of Conley’s palm on my ribs and the faint ache of his teeth along my shoulder, reminders that possession could be both comfort and claim. The card with my name still shone in the drawer where I kept the small things that mattered. It felt like armor and like a promise, both at once.
Conley had left for the court early, a phone clenched at his ear, a stride that made people notice even when they tried not to. Angel remained in the house, moving through rooms with the hushed purpose of someone who h
