Roman’s pavilion had never felt this suffocating.
The glass walls that once gave him pleasure now reflected a man he barely recognized—eyes dark with unrest, jaw clenched so tightly it ached, veins standing out against his temples like restrained fury. The city lights outside glittered mockingly, alive and indifferent, while inside him, something vital was unraveling.
Everything had happened too fast.
Too wrong.
He poured himself another drink, the amber liquid splashing against the crystal as his hand shook before he forced it still. He told himself it was victory he tasted—the humiliation of Ezra Hale broadcast to the world, the lie exposed, the reputation shredded in one calculated blow.
This was supposed to be the end.
Ezra disgraced.
Liana disgusted.
Love shattered beyond repa
