Elena didn’t sleep.
Not after what she’d seen. Not after the photograph, the documents, the way Damian’s voice had wrapped around that one word, bargain.
By morning, the storm in her chest was louder than the quiet of the mansion.
She found him in the study, sleeves rolled to his forearms, leaning over a desk piled with papers. His phone buzzed once before he silenced it. He didn’t look up.
“We’re not finished,” she said.
His pen scratched across the page. “We are.”
“No,” she stepped closer, her voice steady despite the tightness in her throat, “you’re going to tell me everything. Right now.”
Damian finally raised his head, eyes locking onto hers. “You really think you want the truth?”
“I’m not a child. Stop deciding what I can handle.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying her l
