LOGINNerissa had spent the hours after the confrontation walking the frozen paths around the lodge, trying to outrun the echo of Vance's words.
Past tense. But that's not right, is it?
And it's stupid.
Dawn light through the windows.Nerissa hadn't slept. She'd stayed in the chair beside his bed, watching. The fever had broken around 4 AM. His breathing had steadied. Color was slowly returning to his face.He opened his eyes.She was there. Looking at him.He blinked. Looked at her. At the chair pulled close. At the medical supplies on his nightstand. At her hands in her lap."You stayed," he said. His voice was rough."You almost died on your bed." Her voice was flat. "Someone had to watch."He said nothing.She leaned
The apartment was quiet.Nerissa sat on the couch, her laptop open, the Harrington numbers pulled up on her screen. She'd been here for forty minutes, working through the final projections, waiting.The elevator chimed.She looked up.The doors opened. Vance stepped out.He walked in slowly. Too slowly. His movements were careful, deliberate—like he was measuring each step. His face was composed, controlled, but something was off. The set of his shoulders. The way he held his left arm slightly away from his body.He didn't look at her. Walked to the large window. Stopped with his back to her.
The elevator hummed as it rose.Nerissa stood on one side, her tablet in her hand, scrolling through the final presentation notes. Vance stood beside her, hands in his pockets, watching the floor numbers tick past."The Harrington team is expecting the full sustainability breakdown in the first ten minutes," she said. "Zane's portion comes after.""I've seen his slides." Vance's voice was neutral. "They're solid."She glanced at him. "You reviewed them?""He sent them over last night. I wanted to make sure there were no surprises."She looked back at her tablet. "And?""And
The morning air was cold against her skin.Nerissa walked toward the Astera Spire entrance, her bag slung over one shoulder, her heels clicking against the pavement. The building rose ahead of her, glass and steel, catching the pale morning light. Normal. Familiar. Safe.A hand grabbed her arm.She turned.It was Zane.He was standing there, his hand wrapped around her arm just above the elbow. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed. He looked like he hadn't slept. His fingers were cold against her skin—he'd been waiting out here, maybe since first light, his body chilled by the morning air."Why?" His voice was rough. Cracked. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Zane came home at his usual time.The apartment was dark. He flipped on the kitchen light, set down his bag, and checked his phone. No messages from her. That was normal. She was probably still at work.He started dinner. The thing he always did now. Chopping vegetables, heating the pan, moving through the motions. He'd gotten good at it. At pretending everything was normal.He set the table. Two plates. Two glasses. The same ritual.Seven o'clock passed.Seven thirty.Eight.He checked his phone again. Nothing.Maybe she
The penthouse was quiet.Vance stood by the window in his study, looking out at the city. Lights flickered across the skyline. The hum of traffic rose from below, muffled by glass and distance.Behind him, the door opened.Jovi.She stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. She'd been crying again. She was always crying now."We need to talk," she said.He didn't turn. "I'm working.""This is more important than work."He turned then. Looked at her. Face unreadable.
The ultrasound machine was a hulking, grey thing on a cart. The technician had a kind face but quiet hands. She helped Nerissa lie back, draped a sheet over her legs, and squeezed cold gel onto her stomach. She flinched.“Just relax,” she murmured, but her eyes were careful, avoiding hers.Vance ha
The morning after the party, Nerissa sat at the kitchen island in the quiet house. Zane had left early. The silence felt heavy.At ten, the doorbell rang. A courier handed her an envelope. Inside was a keycard and an address written in strong, clear handwriting: The Aerie. PH 70. 7 PM.No note. No
The numbers on the screen bled together into a grey fog. She blinked, hard, trying to force her eyes to focus. Her desk clock read 9:17 PM. The executive floor was a tomb, so quiet she could hear the faint whir of her own laptop fan.This office, her shiny new prize, felt like a glass box suspended
The ride home was silent. Zane drove with both hands clenched on the wheel. He kept looking over at Nerissa, his eyes red and worried. She stared out her window. The city lights slid past, not really reaching her. The pain in her body was a steady, deep ache. But the feeling in her chest was worse.







