Morning came like a knife through glass—sharp, bright, merciless. I hadn’t slept at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ivy’s face, bruised and begging, the fear in her eyes burning through me. I sat on the edge of the bed, numb, wrapped in one of Kieth’s shirts because I hadn’t been able to move long enough to change.
Kieth hadn’t slept either. I heard him in his office all night — pacing, making calls, issuing quiet orders that didn’t sound like business. They sounded like war.
When I finally pushed open the door, the air hit me first — heavy with tension, laced with the faint scent of espresso and something darker. Kieth was standing by the desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie discarded, his phone pressed to his ear. The glow from the wall of monitors lit his face in sharp, controll
