Siena’s POV

The morning started quietly. Too quietly.

Lucian’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He was already dressed for the day. His dark trousers were sharp and perfectly tailored. The deep navy shirt he wore fit snug across his chest, and he was just buttoning the cuffs when he picked up the phone to read a message.

From where I stood in Roman’s room, I could see the frown on his face. His jaw had tightened. The light from the large windows cast a pale glow across the penthouse, but clouds were already starting to gather outside. The brightness from earlier was fading, softening to a moody grey.

I...