Chapter 56 The Gathering Storm

• The city skyline stretched beyond the penthouse windows, but Clara barely noticed. The glass walls that once felt liberating now felt like a cage. Her fingers traced the rim of her untouched coffee mug, the bitter aroma mingling with the faint antiseptic scent lingering from the aftermath of Alexander’s last ambush.
• Ethan stood by the window, his reflection fractured against the glass, shoulders tense as though holding back the storm within. His jaw was rigid, the scar across his temple more pronounced in the low morning light.
• “We keep fighting,” Clara finally whispered, her voice breaking the heavy silence, “but what happens when there’s nothing left to save?”