He knew what it meant to command a boardroom, move markets with a glance, predict stock trends before algorithms could. For most of his life, he measured worth by impact, by precision, by how many people feared disappointing him.
Now, he measured days by how long he could go without aching.
The Brooklyn loft was quiet.
Too quiet.
The plants by the window had grown wild, their vines curling along the bookshelves Sienna once organized by theme, not title. Her favorite mugs still hung in the kitchen. Her paint-stained apron remained draped over the back of the chair where she’d always sat, sketching without hesitation.
It had been a year since she passed.
And still, her presence lingered like soft brushstrokes over every inch of his world.
Julian walked slowly through Canvas & Chapter,
