EMMA
The penthouse was a masterpiece of cold, expensive geometry. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the Thames, turning the jagged London skyline into a panoramic mural of flickering lights and smog. It was owned by a shell company three layers deep in the Lune Noire’s portfolio, a concrete fortress masquerading as a billionaire’s playground.
I stood by the window, my forehead pressed against the cool pane. Below, the city moved like a sluggish, glowing serpent. Somewhere down there, Damien was breathing the same air. Somewhere in those towers, he was still moving the chess pieces of my life, oblivious to the fact that I was no longer playing the same game.
"Get away from the glass, Emma."
Gabriel’s voice was a low vibration that seemed to come from the floorboards. I didn't turn. I di
