MAYA

Silas was already gone when I woke up this morning. There was no note left on the nightstand, no text on my phone—just his side of the bed, already cold. Elena was around the penthouse doing her usual chores during the day, but Silas was completely unreachable. By now, I knew the drill. This was the side of his life that didn't require a personal assistant—the secret and personal business he never spoke about.

Honestly, I preferred it that way. The less I knew about the inner workings of the Blackwood family affairs, the safer I felt. I still hadn't fully recovered from the raw shock of that abandoned...