The storm over Ashbourne worsened by evening.
Rain hammered against the penthouse windows hard enough to blur the skyline entirely, turning Elysian Heights into nothing but shadows and gold lights bleeding through grey.
Inside, tension sat heavy beneath every conversation.
Roman spent most of the afternoon on the phone speaking in low, dangerous tones. Elara pretended to scroll social media while very obviously eavesdropping on everyone. And Damien…
Damien watched me.
Constantly.
Not in a controlling way anymore.
Worse.
Like he physically couldn’t help himself.
Every time I moved through the penthouse, his eyes followed automatically. Every time I left a room too long, he appeared minutes later under the excuse of water, coffee, security updates, breathing probably.
It should hav
