Rain lashed against the windows of the penthouse like impatient fingers tapping a warning rhythm. Elena stood alone in the darkened living room, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched the city drown in glistening reflections. Damian should have been home hours ago.
Again.
The clock struck 11:47 PM.
He had left without explanation, the same vague words slipping from his mouth like smoke.
“I have something to handle. Don’t wait up.”
But she always waited.And tonight, something in her gut twisted differently—too sharp, too cold.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Lucas.
Are you alone?
Her breath caught.She typed back: Why?
Because Damian isn’t where he told you he’d be.
A chill slid down her spine.She typed with trembling fingers: How do you know?
No reply.
Elena grabbed her co
