Silence.
The kind that pressed against your ears. Made the world feel too small and too big at once.
Landon's penthouse was dark when he walked in. Midnight. Maybe later. He didn't check.
Still in his suit from the gallery. Jacket hanging off one shoulder. Tie loose around his neck. Face blank.
But the camera flashes still burned behind his eyes. Every time he blinked, he saw them.
The painting. Sienna's face. The slap echoing through marble halls.
He tossed his keys on the counter. They clattered. Too loud in the quiet.
He didn't turn on lights. Just walked straight to the liquor cabinet.
The bottle felt heavy in his hand. Good. Real.
The first glass went down fast. Burned. He barely felt it.
The second went slower. He tasted this one. Bitter. Wrong.
The
