The air in the penthouse remained thick with tension long after Nicholas left.
Tristan stood at the window, his fists pressed against the glass as he watched the city lights below. Time’s running out. The words echoed in his head like a ticking bomb.
Behind him, Rosalind stirred.
A low groan escaped her lips. Her body tensed before her eyes fluttered open.
Chloé moved first, pressing a hand to Rosalind’s shoulder. “Easy. You’re safe.”
Rosalind’s gaze darted around the room before finally landing on Tristan. Something flickered in her eyes—recognition. Relief.
Then—panic.
She sat up so fast it made her head spin. “Where is he?”
Tristan turned, his face unreadable. “Gone.”
Rosalind cursed under her breath and swung her legs over the couch. Her movements were sharp, almost frantic, a
