The storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside him.
Rain lashed the windows of the penthouse in angry waves, and lightning lit up the skyline like fire behind glass. But none of it mattered—not the storm, not the sirens echoing below, not the pulse thrumming in my ears—because Dominic’s phone had just vibrated once. One single alert.
And everything shifted.
“They breached the lobby,” he said, voice stripped of emotion.
I stood frozen by the kitchen island, the red silk of my gown brushing against my bare ankles. His words rang in my ears.
“Who?” I asked, my voice a whisper.
He looked at me, truly looked at me, and I saw the crack in his armor—the flicker of fear.
“The same people who lit the first fire.”
For a second, the air between us stilled, heavy with a silence that
