Killian’s Pov
I buttoned up my shirt, the last piece of my morning routine, and for whatever damn reason, my thoughts drifted—again—to Lilith.
She didn’t come home last night. Maybe she slept at her place. Maybe not. I don’t know. And truthfully? I shouldn’t care.
This is someone who barely flinched at her mother’s death. So why should I bother worrying about where she lays her head?
I brushed it off, grabbed a bite downstairs, then headed straight to the office.
As usual, my day was packed—meetings, documents, calls. We’re expanding, so I had to sit through interviews. Tedious, but necessary.
It was halfway through the day when I paused.
Something in me—call it curiosity, call it madness—made me reach for my phone.
But I didn’t call her. Of course not. That would send the wrong me
