Soren - POV
The penthouse felt lifeless—empty and cold, even as sunlight struggled to pierce through the curtains. I lay motionless on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of exhaustion pinning me down. I wasn’t really sleeping, just barely surviving on fragments of rest.
The worst part wasn’t the sleepless nights; it was the endless nightmare of Raisel’s hatred. It felt like a prophecy, each passing moment bringing it closer to reality.
The phone rang, cutting through the silence. I sighed and glanced at the screen. Grandpa. If I ignored him, he’d show up unannounced. I dragged myself to answer.
“Morning,” he said.
“It’s not,” I whispered flatly.
“I know,” his tone carried a grim edge. “There’s a scandal blowing up. Apparently, your current girlfriend is all over the tabloid
