The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, painting stripes of gold across the bedroom floor. Ava lay still, her body tangled in the silk sheets, her mind racing. The penthouse was silent, the city outside just beginning to stir. She rolled over, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Liam’s side of the bed was untouched, the sheets smooth and cold.
Of course he hadn’t stayed.
She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Three missed calls from Mira. A text:
Mira: Call me. Now.
Ava’s fingers hovered over the screen. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to face the reality of what she’d done. But she dialed anyway, pressing the phone to her ear as she padded to the window. The city sprawled beneath her, indifferent
