They finally reached Mike’s penthouse in Manhattan— and the moment they stepped in, both Davina and Jenny froze, mouths slightly parted, as if they had stepped into a dream sculpted from clouds and moonlight.
The penthouse was nothing short of a fantasy— perched high on the sixtieth floor, it stretched across more than fifteen rooms. One side unveiled the dazzling chaos of Manhattan’s skyline; the other looked out over the calm, endless sweep of Manhattan Beach, where the sea kissed the horizon with a hush.
A paradox in glass and stone— chaos and serenity, coexisting in lavish harmony.
Davina stood silently, unable to move. It felt like something pulled from the ashes of her dreams.
A dream she never dared to dream again after leaving this country five years ago.
A dream she had burie
