Liana’s POV

The city never really sleeps, not even when I want it to. From the balcony, I can see its pulse. The headlights tracing arteries of glass and steel, the faint hum of machinery rising from Z-Core’s district like mechanical breath. Somewhere in that grid of light, there’s a secret buried deep enough to drive men mad and tonight, that secret has my husband’s name all over it.

I set my phone down on the marble counter and stare at the message again. No greeting, no signature. ...