The city glowed below them, it's lights went on endlessly beyond the penthouse windows. Isla should have felt relief that she was alive, they had escaped and have the proof they needed to bring her father down.
But instead all she felt was a fatigue.
The kind that lingers and settles into the bones pressing her down like an unbearable weight.
Nathaniel and Gabriel had retired into their rooms leaving her alone with Damien in the giant penthouse.
The silence was thick filled with everything left unsaid.
He stood by the fireplace, glass of whiskey in hand, his face cast in sharp shadows. The tension in his body was evident. His rigid shoulders, the way his hands tightened around the glass, as if he was holding back something he didn't want to unleash.
Whatever it had been like before,
