The days that followed blurred together in a haze of stilted conversations and careful distances. Luna found herself watching Grayson like a stranger, analyzing every gesture for signs of deception. He, in turn, treated her with the same polite formality he showed his business associates—kind but distant, protective but removed.
Three days after Detective Roberts' visit, Marcus knocked on Luna's suite door with his usual precise timing.
"Mrs. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn requests your presence in his office."
The formal address stung, it felt foreign. She'd grown used to Marcus calling her Luna sometimes, a small intimacy that had felt like acceptance into Grayson's inner circle
She found Grayson behind his desk, staring at a stack of documents. He looked up when she entered, and she was struck
