Tristan wasn’t interested in peace.
The way the morning sunlight spilled through the penthouse windows made everything seem peaceful, but he was anything but.
He dialed the encrypted number and waited. A soft, familiar voice answered.
“You’re calling early… that’s unusual.”
Tristan’s lips curved. “I have good news.”
A low hum came from the other end of the phone. “I’m listening.”
He leaned back, watching the city crawl awake beneath him.
“Xander opened a door last night,” he said calmly. “A stupid, desperate door.”
“What door are you talking about?”
“The kind that lets me into their home… permanently.”
“I don’t understand you, Tristan, can you speak in clear terms?” She demanded. A delighted little breath crackled through the speaker. “Oh, Tristan. Don’t tell me he actually…”
“
