Val's P.O.V

The door to Brielle’s bedroom suite clicked shut, finally granting us true privacy. Her room was a larger, more chaotic version of the apartment’s minimalist aesthetic—designer clothes draped over a chair, shelves of books mingling with high-end skincare, and a massive bed piled with luxurious pillows. It was a sanctuary within a sanctuary.

The adrenaline began its slow, inevitable retreat, leaving behind a deep, buzzing exhaustion. We moved on autopilot, a well-rehearsed ...