The morning after the storm broke felt deceptively calm.
The Steele mansion was flooded with soft light, golden sun streaming through the high windows, spilling across marble floors. The house, grand and pristine as always, looked untouched by the words that had scorched its walls the night before.
But Sierra knew better.
She sat at the kitchen counter, staring into a mug of untouched coffee, her fingers trembling around the porcelain. Sleep had eluded her, when she closed her eyes, she saw Vanessa’s smile, sharp and knowing, her words echoing like a curse. Even you can’t control her forever.
The footsteps came before the scent of his cologne. Damien entered, immaculate as always. Dark tailored suit, silver cufflinks gleaming, not a hair out of place. His expression was unreadable, gre
