Chapter 42 The Fallout Curve
- Morning didn’t rise so much as crash.
- Ariana blinked against the light seeping through the sheer curtains of Damien’s penthouse bedroom, her body still humming with the echo of last night. Her skin, bare beneath the sheets, carried the memory of his touch. Anchoring, reverent, devastating in its gentleness.
- But peace was never more than a pause in their world.