. . . AUTHOR’S POV The car hummed along the dark road, the midnight sky stretching endlessly above, dotted with stars. Sloane was curled up in the front seat, dressed in Damon’s spare shirt—a loose, faded button-up that hung past her thighs, the sleeves rolled up on her small frame. She’d been asleep for hours, her head resting against the window, her breathing slow and steady. Damon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, his eyes flicking between the road and her peaceful face. A whole day had passed since he’d taken her from her uncle’s mansion, the chaos of their escape fading into the quiet of this moment. They were heading to the airport now, where his private jet waited to take them away—somewhere safe, somewhere they could start over. The c

