At 2:00 a.m., Scarlett had just lain down when her phone began vibrating violently on the nightstand. It was Cassian, thirty-four missed calls, dozens of voice messages. She glanced at them, selected all, deleted, and switched on Do Not Disturb.
The screen went dark, reflecting her utterly calm eyes.
She slept straight through until morning.
The next day, Scarlett hadn't even refilled her coffee when the office door slammed open, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang.
Cassian's eyes were bloodshot, his tie hanging crooked around his neck. He clearly hadn't slept; stubble shadowed his jaw, his suit wrinkled as if he'd spent the night curled up in his car, and the faint smell of alcohol clung to him. "Do you really have to destroy everything?"
Scarlett looked up
