Chapter 72 Ashes Of Innocence

• The sun rose over Santorini in muted shades of gold, but within the villa, light could not wash away the blood that had already been spilled. Ivy awoke with the weight of it pressing down on her chest, heavy as the ocean itself. Sleep had been shallow, broken by flashes of the night before—the spray of crimson, the startled gasp that became silence, Damien’s unwavering eyes on her as if he had been waiting for this transformation all along.
• She sat up slowly, pulling the sheets tighter around her body. Her hand drifted unconsciously to the faint smear of dried blood beneath her fingernails. She should have scrubbed it away hours ago. She should have erased every trace. But some part of her had resisted, clinging to the reminder. It was proof. Not of guilt, but of power.
• The door creaked, breaking her reverie. Damien entered without knocking, his presence filling the room before his words did. He wore black again, tailored and sharp, a man forged in violence and discipline. His eyes flicked briefly over her before landing on her hands. He noticed the blood she hadn’t washed away, but said nothing.