Chapter 20

• The morning light filtered in like smoke. It crept across the floor of the loft in long streaks, soft but restless. I stood at the drafting table, fingertips pressed lightly to the edge of the wood, eyes fixed on a bolt of fabric that refused to quiet my mind. Something in the air felt different. Not louder. Not heavier. Just sharpened.
• Roman had not responded to the board’s formal notification. Alessia’s office had gone dark overnight, her assistant issuing a vague statement about a personal health leave. The timing was suspect. The silence, strategic. And still, it would be foolish to assume surrender.
• Julian entered without speaking, his phone in hand. He crossed the studio in three strides and stopped beside me. His screen was lit, a thread of messages scrolling in grey.