Vanessa’s POV

The city glittered below the wide glass windows of Damian’s penthouse, a stretch of colorful bright lights and noise from the city. But inside, everything was still. Too still.

The kind of silence that gnawed at her.

Vanessa sat curled on the edge of the sofa, legs tucked beneath her, the hem of her silk robe brushing against the floor. The air-conditioning hummed softly, and the faint scent of antiseptic from her earlier check-up clung to the room. For days, she’d told ...