The wedding was set for the end of summer.
Nothing extravagant.
Just the cliffs, the sea below them hissing with salt and promise, and a guest list so intimate it could be whispered. Elira didn’t want diamonds or hundreds of eyes watching her say vows she’d bled to write. She wanted stillness. She wanted truth. She wanted to know that after all the lies, the betrayals, the stolen time, what stood between her and Damian was real.
But even in the warmth of their new chapter, something coiled cold and sharp beneath the surface.
A current she couldn’t name yet.
It arrived in the form of a letter.
There was no return address. No postage. Just a cream envelope placed on their doorstep before the sun even rose.
Damian found it. His face tightened as he read, jaw clenched, a flicker of some
