Elena’s POV

I lifted the teacup slowly, letting the steam brush against my face as though it could steady my breathing.

Just as the porcelain rim touched my lips, my phone vibrated against the tabletop.

Once.

Then again.

The vibration was sharp, insistent, cutting cleanly through the fragile calm that had settled over the rooftop garden. I lowered the cup and glanced at the screen.

A live-stream recommendation filled it instantly.

The headline was bold, vulgar, and deliberately ...