DAMIEN
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
Damien lay still, eyes open in the dark, listening to Isla breathe. Her back was to him, her body warm, but distant.
He didn’t have to say a word to know it was bad.
He had known it the second she smiled at him over dinner… tight, careful, ribs braced for an impact that hadn’t hit yet.
She was watching him. Measuring him.
Not the way a lover did.
The way a survivor did.
And Damien knew that look far too well.
***
He got up before dawn, unable to sleep. The guilt sat heavy in his chest, even though he hadn’t said a word to her yet.
What the hell did you expect?
That sleeping with Valeria wouldn’t leave a stain?
That you could bury it beneath good intentions and soft apologies?
He ran a hand down his face and moved through the penthouse like a
