The first morning of my new life felt surreal, almost offensive in its perfection. I didn’t wake up to the grinding sound of city buses or the shouting of neighbors in my cramped apartment block. Instead, I woke up in a silence so thick it felt like a physical weight. The air in my bedroom smelled of fresh rain and expensive sandalwood, a scent that I was beginning to associate with Silas Thorne cold, clean, and untouchable.
By nine o'clock, I was seated in the command center Silas had built for me. It wasn’t a "high-tech tomb" anymore; it was my territory. My fingers moved across the keyboard with a muscle memory that felt like coming home. I spent the first few hours tearing down the old security protocols and building something new. I didn't just want to watch the house; I wanted to ow
