POV: Xavier
She moved out of the penthouse within twenty-four hours. He wasn’t at the penthouse when she left; he had stayed at the office until the early morning hours, fully aware of her departure. He returned to a space that felt vacuum-sealed. The dining table was bare, the surface gleaming with a sterile finality. The extra toothbrush was gone from his bathroom. The hotel's discreet, floral air freshener had erased her scent—vanilla and pencil shavings. She had left no note. The absence was her statement.
At the Hale Grand, a new, more profound distance settled over them. Before, the contract had mandated three feet. Now, an entire arctic tundra stretched between them in every corridor and every elevator bank. She was glacial perfection. Her hair was bound in a severe knot, her clot
