The evening air in the Enge penthouse was thick and stagnant, despite the hum of the climate control system. Outside, the Zurich skyline had surrendered to a bruising purple twilight, but inside, the atmosphere was defined by a sensory war. Elea stood before the vanity mirror in the master bedroom, her movements deliberate as she tilted her head to apply a final, heavy mist of rose perfume. The floral scent was cloying, almost suffocating, but it served a desperate purpose. Beneath the layers of expensive botanical oils, her skin still held the stubborn, phantom scent of iron.
"Is that a new fragrance, Darling?" Kai asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Elea didn't flinch, though the sound of his voice made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. She looked at his reflection in the glass.
