Katrina’s POV
The city below Damon’s penthouse sparkled like a false jewel, every light a reminder of a world I could no longer touch. I stood at the glass wall, my palm pressed against its cold surface, my reflection staring back at me.
It was strange, how quickly gilded cages began to feel like prisons. The first night here, I had been overwhelmed by its beauty—marble floors, chandeliers, and views that stretched forever. Now it felt like every luxury pressed down on me, suffocating.
The world was moving outside, but I was frozen here, breathing Damon’s air, bound to Damon’s rules, tangled in Damon’s shadow.
And yet…
My body still carried the memory of his touch. Last night had changed something. He had been softer, gentler, almost vulnerable. His hands had claimed me, but they had
