Chapter 11: The First Crack
The elevator ride back to the penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of machinery. Bella’s hand stayed in mine, our fingers laced tight, as if she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. I kept stealing glances at her. My shirt swallowed her frame, her legs were bare, and her hair was messy from my hands. She looked like she belonged to me.
Because she did.
The doors slid open and we stepped into the living room. The city sparkled forty-eight floors below, but the warmth we had an hour ago was gone. Vanessa’s poison was already seeping in.
Bella finally spoke, her voice small. "She’s not going to stop, is she?"
"No," I answered honestly. "She’s never known when to quit. And right now, she’s desperate."
She walked to the windows, wrapping her arms around
