The morning after the storm didn’t bring peace.

It brought silence,heavy, watchful, the kind that hummed beneath the skin like an unspoken warning.

Carson stood at the window of his penthouse, the skyline of the city rising before him like glass spires, each one reflecting the pale, uncertain dawn. He hadn’t slept. The fire had burned all night in his head not the one that destroyed his family’s estate years ago, but the one Justina had lit with her truth.

He’d kissed her like a man ...