The rain began to lash against the windows of the Enge penthouse, a rhythmic drumming that masked the heavy silence of the bedroom. Inside, the air was warm, scented with the fading traces of Elea’s rose perfume and the faint, sterile tang of the medical supplies Kai had discovered earlier that morning. They lay together under the silk sheets, the moonlight filtering through the curtains in jagged silver strips. To any observer, this was the most intimate hour of a marriage, a time for vulnerability and connection. But for Kai and Elea, intimacy had become a front for infiltration.
Kai reached out, his hand sliding slowly along the curve of Elea’s shoulder. His touch was feather-light, seemingly affectionate, yet his fingertips were calibrated like high-precision sensors. He wasn't just
