Ryder’s POV
Consciousness hit me like a block of ice. I woke up in a suffocating silence. The space beside me on the bed was cold—empty—a brutal reminder that she was gone.
I sat there, motionless. Empty. There was no explosive rage, only a hollow void slowly consuming my sanity. My eyes fixed on the safe hanging wide open in the corner, then shifted to the CCTV monitor. There, I saw her. Mary. She was fleeing my penthouse as if I were a plague she had to escape. She clutched the map, climbed into a taxi, and vanished from my sight forever.
With every second the recording looped, my heart skipped a beat; it was shattered into pieces.
I stood up, letting the towel wrapped around my waist fall to the floor. My body still bore the lingering traces of her—her scent, her moans, the heat
