Barry’s POV

The rain hadn’t stopped all night. It drummed against the windows of my office, a steady rhythm that reminded me of a clock ticking down to something inevitable.

I leaned back in my chair, a glass of whiskey resting against my knee, phone in my other hand. Her name sat there on the screen like a promise I hadn’t decided how to keep.

Alina.

Even in silence, she was loud. Her refusal to respond told me everything—told me she was scared, told me she was hiding behind that husband of hers, told me she hadn’t yet figured out that ignoring me was the same as feeding me.

Because...