Chapter 48 The Final Move
- The air was cold, not in temperature, but in clarity. It sharpened every breath, every thought.
- Ariana stood barefoot on the penthouse balcony, coffee steaming in her hands, wrapped in one of Damien’s crisp white shirts. It was too big on her, but that was why she liked it. It smelled like cedarwood, control, and him.
- The city buzzed beneath them. Alive. Restless.