The heavy metal doors of the private elevator slid open with a soft chime, revealing a scene that made Clara’s chest tighten with an old, familiar instinct.

Mason Hayes stood flanked by two massive security guards in dark suits. He looked nothing like the arrogant, smirking teenager who had mocked

The heavy metal doors of the private elevator snapped shut, cutting off Mason’s cruel, echoing laughter. The sudden, horrifying silence of the penthouse pressed in on Clara, suffocating and thick.

She stood frozen in the foyer, staring at the brushed steel of the elevator doors as if Mason’s words

The drop in temperature within the penthouse was almost physical.

Julian Thorne did not shout. He did not throw his coffee mug against the wall or slam his fists into the marble counter. Instead, he radiated a cold, terrifying stillness that made the hairs on the back of Clara’s neck stand up.

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