Chapter 35 The Moment Of No Return

• The city lights pulsed against the darkened penthouse, casting jagged shadows across the marble floor. Clara moved carefully, her bare feet silent against the cold surface. It was nearly three in the morning, yet the space still carried the ghost of Ethan’s presence.
• She found him in his study, hunched over his desk, his hands tangled in his thick, unruly hair. Papers were scattered across the mahogany surface, stock reports, classified files, evidence of a battle raging behind closed doors. A half-empty tumbler of whiskey sat nearby, untouched.
• Clara hesitated in the doorway. Ethan Whitaker was always composed, always in control. But now, his frame looked tense, rigid with something he refused to name. His shoulders shuddered with each sharp breath, his head bowed low.