By morning, the air was different.
It wasn’t just the calm after the storm of their night together—it was heavier, sharper. Like something in the atmosphere had shifted. Elena felt it the moment she opened her eyes.
Damian was already up, pacing the floor shirtless, phone pressed to his ear, his expression tight and unreadable. His back, a canvas of scars and muscle, tensed with each step. His jaw clenched as he spoke into the phone in short, clipped commands.
“No. I want eyes on every exit out of Zone Three. Anyone who moves without my say, I want them on the floor.”
Pause.
“Double the guards. I don’t care if they’re family or not. This ends today.”
He hung up, tossing the burner phone onto the table with a clatter. Elena sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around her. “What’s happen
