The morning sunlight spilled like gold across the marble floors of Damien's penthouse, but there was nothing warm about the tension pulsing through the air.
Celeste sat curled on the edge of Damien's massive bed, his silk shirt draped over her shoulders, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand. She hadn't touched it.
The intimacy of the last twenty-four hours still lingered in the air, raw confessions, passionate promises, and a private moment that felt like the start of something real again, something more solid and unbreakable.
Celeste should've felt invincible , but instead, dread slithered up her spine like smoke.
Damien stood near the windows, bare-chested and brooding, talking in clipped tones into his phone.
"No statements. Not until we confirm the source." Pause. "I d
