Soren - POV

The penthouse felt lifeless—empty and cold, even as sunlight struggled to pierce through the curtains. I lay motionless on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of exhaustion pinning me down. I wasn’t really sleeping, just barely surviving on fragments of rest.

The worst part wasn’t the sleepless nights; it was the endless nightmare of Raisel’s hatred. It felt like a prophecy, each passing moment bringing it closer to reality.

The phone rang, cutting through ...