Kingsley slammed the door behind him as he entered the mansion. The echo bounced off the tall glass walls like the thunder inside his chest. He didn’t hesitate. He moved quickly, pulling out his suitcase from the hallway closet.
Every motion felt purposeful. Final.
He packed methodically—clothes, charger, toiletries—his hands shaking with urgency. He barely paused to think, except for one brief moment when his fingers touched a folded photograph of him and Katherine, once taken in secret at the retreat. She had been laughing. He had been staring at her like she was his entire future.
She still is.
He zipped up the bag and grabbed his phone.
“Call Aaron,” he commanded, dialing his assistant.
Aaron picked up immediately. “Sir?”
“I need a flight to Brooklyn. Book it immediately.”
Ther
