TATIANA’s POV

Love isn’t tender. It isn’t soft. Love is war, and tonight I was bleeding without armor.

“I still love you.”

Zayne’s voice, raw, unguarded, filtered through the half-open office door.

Not to me. Never to me.

To her.

Daphne Rivera. The thorn in my side. The woman who refused to die, refused to vanish, refused to let me win.

My nails bit crescents into my palms as I stood frozen in the hallway, every syllable stabbing deeper.

For a second, I thought maybe I’d misheard ...