The silence in Silas Thorne’s sprawling penthouse was usually a heavy, suffocating thing, but this morning, it felt like a loaded gun.

Clara Vance kept her head down, her hands moving in rhythmic, mechanical circles as she polished the mahogany dining table. The rag in

Clara didn't wait for Silas to demand an answer.

The moment his grip loosened in his shock, she ripped her wrists out of his grasp, scrambled backward over the remaining glass, and bolted.

"Clara!" Silas roared, his voice echoing off the high ceilings, but she was alread

The question hung in the air between them, and Clara's mind went blank—no excuse, no lie, no breath to answer it.

Clara swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry. She pressed her spine against the cracked plaster of her apartment wall, her heart hammering frantically agai