The city was drowning in its own lights when Ethan stormed into the penthouse, slamming the door so hard the echo shuddered through the marble floor. Alyssa didn’t flinch. She stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the skyline like she was waiting for a sign—one that would tell her whether to keep fighting or let everything burn.

“Alyssa,” Ethan barked, chest tight with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going after Davin?”

She didn’t turn. “Because you would’ve stopped me.”

“I should stop you,” he snapped. “You have no idea how dangerous—”

“I know exactly how dangerous,” she cut in sharply. “I’ve lived with danger...