The city was quiet in the way it only became after midnight—when power shifted hands in silence instead of speeches.

Alyssa stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the executive lounge, her reflection fractured by city lights below. Her phone lay dark in her palm, unread messages ignored. She had chosen this place because it was neutral ground—neither Ethan’s office nor her own. A place without ownership.

She heard the door open behind her.

“You shouldn’t be alone here,” Ethan said, his voice low, controlled.

She didn’t turn. “You followed me again.”

“I was already here.”

“That’s worse.”

He closed the door quietly, as if sound itself might betray them. “You’re...