– Damien’s POV

The city had long since quieted, as though the night itself was holding its breath.

Beyond the glass walls, London shimmered in patient lights, the river stretching like a ribbon of black silk, reflecting the hum of life far below. But inside my penthouse bedroom, the air was still — the kind of stillness that follows a storm, when the battle has been fought and neither side wishes to move.

Clara lay beside me, her head resting against the smooth plane of my chest. The ...