Chapter Twenty-Five
The city felt colder than usual that morning. Rain had fallen overnight, leaving slick streets that reflected neon signs and traffic lights like fractured mirrors. Elena walked briskly along the empty sidewalks, her umbrella doing little to shield her from the drizzle. The wet chill soaked through her coat, but she barely noticed. Her mind was consumed by one thought: betrayal.
Betrayal, she realized, had many faces. Subtle, whispered, sharp, all-consuming. Today, it bore the face of Adrian Blackwood.
The penthouse felt impossibly large when she returned that morning to retrieve a few personal items. Marble floors gleamed under the muted light, reflecting her hurried steps. The apartment, once a space of shared tension and occasional warmth, now felt like a courtroom of memories—each corner a witness to emotions she could no longer ignore.
