Elena’s breath caught in her throat as Lorenzo disappeared down the corridor, his gun drawn, his body tense with lethal grace. The silence that followed was more suffocating than the storm raging outside. The fire crackled behind her, but its warmth couldn’t chase away the cold dread seeping into her spine.

She didn’t stay put. She couldn’t.

Heart thundering, she crept after him, barefoot on the marble floor, the oversized shirt clinging to her like a second skin. The penthouse was dimly lit, shadows curling in the corners. A flicker of movement caught her eye—Lorenzo’s silhouette vanishing into his office.

A sharp sound shattered the silence. Glass? A struggle?

She...