The engine purred steadily, the outside world’s lights drifting across the windows from time to time before disappearing again. Inside, in the rear compartment, it was almost completely dark. The partition cut off any contact with the driver, and the faint light that filtered into the back barely cast a pale glow over Lucian’s and Andromeda’s faces. The air was thick with silence – and with unspoken thoughts.
Lucian sat motionless. His muscles were still taut under the suit, his jaw flexing now and then as if he were grinding down on some inner rage. His eyes stayed on her like a sightline: tracking every small movement, every shift, every sigh. He didn’t speak. But he was watching.
Andromeda sat beside him, a shade too stiff, too still. The shimmering, elegant fabric of her dress lay wr
