Elena's pov

I watched Damien and his lawyer exit the building from my window. Eighty floors up they look like ants, small and insignificant.

The signed contracts sitting on my desk behind me were proof of my victory.

Not that it felt much like one.

"Elena?"

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. I could recognize my brother’s voice anytime. He always said my name like he was afraid I might break.

“I'm fine."

"I haven’t even asked you anything,” he said, closing the office ...