The morning after was unusually quiet. The kind of silence that lingered with unspoken truths. Isabella woke to the faint sounds of the city below, her body still entangled in Damien’s. His arm draped across her waist was heavy, grounding her, but the weight of his secrets pressed harder against her chest.
She turned her head slightly to see him, his features relaxed in sleep, his usual guarded expression softened. It struck her how human he looked in this moment. Vulnerable. Almost innocent. But the Damien Morrison she had come to know was anything but innocent. He was a man forged by the fires of ambition and power—a man whose love consumed as much as it gave.
Sliding out of bed carefully, Isabella reached for the silk robe hanging on a nearby chair. She wrapped it around herself, tyin
