Roman hadn’t slept.
The suite was too still, too sharp with silence. He sat on the edge of the bed, shirt half-buttoned, a duffel bag open beside him.
Every few minutes he’d stand, shove another item inside, then pause again, staring at nothing. His mind refused to let go of the words—Alec has been poisoned.
Who would dare? And why?
He shoved a black shirt into the bag, zipped the side pocket, then stopped.
This wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.
A knock jolted him from his thoughts. Firm and urgent.
He crossed the room in three strides and pulled the door open.
Tessa stood there. Her hair was damp from a shower, her face bare of makeup, her expression unreadable, but her eyes—sharp, curious and steady landed on him like a blade. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I heard eve
