The silence in Jack’s office was deceptive—too quiet, too composed. The kind of silence that held its breath before everything came undone.

The dusk outside bled across the skyline in molten gold and bruised violet. It caught on the glass towers and threw fractured light across the floor. Emma stood by the window, her silhouette rimmed with fire, her gaze fixed far beyond the cityscape. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, fingers digging into her sleeves. In her mind, a thousand ...