Damien’s POV

The city was sliding into evening when I called her. The day had been long — the kind of long that leaves you feeling like your mind has been stretched thin and rewound too many times. Deals discussed, strategies revised, smiles worn like tailored suits.

But beneath all of it, there had been a single, persistent thought.

Clara.

I’d seen her earlier at the office, her focus locked on a spreadsheet, her pen tapping against the table in a rhythm only she seemed to hear. ...