Elara's room in the penthouse was impossibly silent.
The city sprawled beneath her like a glittering graveyard. Streetlights flickered, rain streaking down glass, washing the world in gray. She could almost hear the weight of Adrian Vale watching from somewhere above. Somewhere in the shadows.
She hadn't unpacked. She didn't want to. Every item she placed down felt like claiming a piece of a prison.
The knock on the door startled her.
"Enter," she said, her voice shaking despite her effort to sound steady.
Adrian stepped in without waiting. He moved like he owned the place—which, in truth, he did.
"You've been here less than twenty-four hours," he said, voice low. "And already you're growing comfortable."
"I'm not comfortable," she said, trying to keep her chin up. "I'm alive. That's all."
His eyes flicked toward the window, toward the city below. Then back to her.
"Alive isn't enough," he said quietly. "Not in my world. Not anymore."
The words sank deep, colder than the rain outside.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, finally daring the question she had buried in her chest since the day of the accident.
"Why?" His gaze sharpened. "Why did you exist at that exact moment?"
"I… I didn't—"
"Exactly." He stepped closer, so close she could feel the controlled power radiating from him. "You didn't. And yet here we are."
Her stomach twisted. Fear, anger, exhaustion—they all collided.
"You think I planned this?" she whispered. "You think I wanted any of it?"
"I don't care what you planned," he said evenly. "You were there. Witnessed her death. And now everything I had—everything she built—is fractured."
She wanted to yell, to scream, to shake him. But she had learned quickly that yelling at Adrian Vale achieved nothing. Control was his weapon. Silence was hers.
"You're punishing me for surviving," she said finally.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he moved toward the door, stopping just short of it.
"Tomorrow," he said, voice almost casual, "we start. And I'll be watching. Every move. Every glance. Every word you speak. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said, though every fiber of her body rebelled.
"Good." He paused. Then his tone shifted, softer, almost imperceptibly. "I'll warn you… it will be worse if I ever catch you lying to me."
The door closed behind him. The silence returned.
Elara sank onto the edge of the bed, chest heaving.
She was trapped.
Her job gone. Her home gone. Her freedom gone.
And yet…
Something stirred in the back of her mind.
A spark.
A thought.
If she survived the first night, maybe she could survive the next. And the next. And maybe—just maybe—she could turn this world of steel and glass into something she could control.
But first… she had to survive Adrian Vale.
And somewhere, far below, in the streets of the city that glimmered like a corpse in the rain, the real danger was already moving.
Victor Hale had a plan.
And Elara Quinn was right in the middle of it.