**ELENA’S POV**
Morning arrives without permission.
Sunlight creeps through the tall windows of Damian’s penthouse, soft and golden, but it does little to warm the cold that settled inside me during the night. I wake on top of the covers, still wearing the borrowed clothes he left for me, muscles stiff from sleep that did not feel like rest.
The alarm from the night before echoes faintly in my memory. The way Damian moved toward me. The way he said he was sorry. His voice cracking. The shock of it still lingers.
But now the apology feels like a dream. Fragile. Unfinished. Overshadowed by the reality of where I am.
His penthouse.
His world.
And his insistence that I stay here.
I sit up slowly, listening. The place is too quiet. Too large. Every sound I make feels like it does not be
