Chapter 21 The Dark Face Of Power

• Sofia had almost grown accustomed to Marco’s prolonged absences, but when the elevator doors slid open late that evening, his presence was like a thunderclap in the quiet penthouse. He strode in with the same commanding air as always, but his face seemed rougher, his jaw set in a way that hinted at barely contained anger—or maybe exhaustion.
• Sofia froze on the couch, her book forgotten in her lap. Her pulse quickened, her mind racing. Was his hardened demeanor because of her escape attempt days ago? Or worse—was it the slap, still fresh in her memory, that might have bruised more than just his cheek?
• Marco didn’t look at her immediately, his focus on slipping off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. He ran a hand through his dark hair before finally turning his attention to her, his cold gaze sharp and unreadable.