The morning light flooded the penthouse, pale and merciless. Sierra sat at the dining table, her untouched coffee cooling in front of her. The city sprawled beyond the glass windows, a glittering trap she couldn’t escape.
Vanessa was humming softly in the kitchen, moving with the serenity of someone who had already won the game. She placed a plate of sliced fruit between them, her smile gentle, her eyes unreadable.
“You’ve always been so photogenic, Sierra,” she said suddenly. “Do you remember the picture from last night?”
Sierra’s throat tightened.
“I’ve had it printed.” Vanessa’s smile widened as she slid a small envelope across the table. “I thought it deserved a frame.”
Sierra’s trembling hands pulled it open. There was a photo from the restaurant. Damien’s arm around her shoulder
