Liana’s POV
The city never really sleeps, not even when I want it to. From the balcony, I can see its pulse. The headlights tracing arteries of glass and steel, the faint hum of machinery rising from Z-Core’s district like mechanical breath. Somewhere in that grid of light, there’s a secret buried deep enough to drive men mad and tonight, that secret has my husband’s name all over it.
I set my phone down on the marble counter and stare at the message again. No greeting, no signature. Just the name that’s been following me like a ghost for weeks: ELIA.
The first time I saw it, I thought it was spam. The second time, a prank. Now, after three weeks and four identical texts, I can’t pretend anymore. Someone wants me to remember her and I do.
When I hear him come in, I rehearse my questio
