When Mirabelle knocked, Ashton was rinsing grime off his hands.
He had just been down in the stairwell, flipping the main breaker.
Manufactured blackout.
It wasn't an original move, but it was effective.
Three days.
He had given her three whole days to respond.
She hadn't.
He was already losing his mind.
He had spent the entire day in the office glued to his phone.
Every notification made his pulse spike, but none of the messages were from her.
Cassian had asked him out for drinks that evening, but he shut it down.
He was too restless, too wired.
Having wrapped his work early, he drove straight to Oakwood Apartments.
He knew she was in her flat, but if she wouldn't come to him, then...
He cut the power.
A minute later, he was in the stairwell,
