Rowan’s POV
The sound of the door slamming echoed in my head long after it shut. The lights in her apartment were dim, golden, and far too quiet compared to the chaos burning in my chest.
She stumbled a little as she turned toward me, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed from the wine. “How did you—wait—how are you inside?” she asked me, it was obvious that she was drunk and that made me frown. That man could have taken advantage of her.
Her voice was soft, drowsy, a little slurred. I didn’t answer right away. It took effort to unclench my jaw. “You gave me the code,” I said finally.
Her brows furrowed, her lips twitching into something close to a pout. “Did I?” she asked, sounding tired.
“You did,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Two weeks ago.”
She blinked, the memory clea
