Chapter 7:
………..
I woke up alone.
The bed was huge and empty—sheets tangled around my legs, pillows scattered, the indentation of where someone had been lying next to me still visible on the mattress.
I sat up fast.
The room was the same as before—floor-to-ceiling windows, chandelier dimmed to amber, marble floor cold under my feet. But something was different.
The air felt heavier. Quieter. Like the whole penthouse was holding its breath.
I looked down.
His shirt was still on me. White. Too big. Sleeves past my fingertips.
And on the pillow next to mine—
A note.
Handwritten. Sharp black ink. Paper that felt expensive.
You were mine before you knew it.
— A
I stared at it.
The mark on my neck pulsed—once, twice, three times—and I felt something pull in my chest. Not toward th
