The morning after the meeting felt like the quiet before an earthquake.

Alexander woke before dawn, the city still wrapped in fog, the skyline a blur of glass and ghosts. He stood by the window, coffee in hand, his reflection fragmented against the sprawling view. Somewhere in that reflection, he could almost see the man he used to be certain, untouchable, unshakable. But now, every certainty felt like glass under strain.

Behind him, Amelia stirred beneath the sheets, her voice soft and ...