MasukElowen's POV
The ride back across town didn't feel like driving. It felt like falling through gray water.
The rain had turned heavy again, hammering the dark windows of the car as Marcus wove through Sunday night traffic with fast, careful precision. Beside me, Killian sat completely still, his phone dark in his hand, his profile cut from the passing streetlights into sharp, unmoving shadow.
Neither of us spoke. T
Elowen's POVI didn't go after him.I stood in the dim foyer until his footsteps had faded completely, leaving nothing behind but the hum of the vents and the cold coming off the terrace glass.I turned toward the east wing instead.Leo's old door stood half open, exactly the way he'd left it the day he packed his bag and walked out. The overhead light was off, but the streetlights outside threw pale gray strips across the floor through the sheer curtains.The bed had been stripped down to plain white sheets. The monitors sat dark against the wall, cords coiled and tucked away, the room already starting to smell like nothing had ever happened in it, faint gauze and rubbing alcohol fading under the ordinary smell of an apartment that had simply moved on.I sat down on the edge of the mattress.This room had been the center
Elowen's POVThe ride back from Pier 17 took twenty minutes of gray asphalt and cold harbor air trapped inside a cab.I skipped the service elevator this time. I walked straight through the front turnstiles on Ninety, my coat still damp from the wind off the river, my eyes fixed ahead. The floor had quieted since noon, but the air still carried that restless, unsettled weight of people waiting to see who'd end up claiming the empty corner office.I went into my own office and shut the door.I didn't turn on the lamp. I didn't touch the files still open on my screen. I pulled my bag out from under the desk, dropped my notebook inside, unlocked the bottom drawer for my personal phone, and slipped it into my coat.There was nothing else in that room that actually belonged to me. I'd sat behind that desk nearly every day since the wedding, and every single thing on i
Elowen's POVThe empty glass sat on the wood between us, catching the dull gray light off the river.Outside, the water kept hitting the pilings in that same careless rhythm it always had, indifferent to anything happening on this side of the glass. Inside, the quiet was thick enough that I could hear the wind finding the seam in the window behind Leo's head.I looked at my brother and waited.Neither of us said anything for a while. He didn't look toward the door Killian had walked through. He just sat there, hands flat on the table, staring at the empty spot where the glass had been."Say something," I said.My own voice sounded strange in that big, empty room. Flat, like whatever had been holding me together for the last ten minutes had quietly stepped out too.Leo didn't look up right away. "What do you want me to say
Elowen's POVThe room went completely still.Outside, the East River slapped against the pilings under the floorboards, but inside the empty harbor house, the only sound was the wind finding its way in around the seal of the front door.I stared at Killian, my heart going hard against my ribs.Lazy Spider.I remembered exactly how Kateryna had frozen the first time he said those two words across a boardroom table. The color draining out of her face. Three years of fury just gone, like the floor under her had disappeared.And now he was looking at my brother.Leo sat perfectly still, his knuckles pale against the table. Whatever calm he'd carried into this restaurant had locked into something rigid and pale instead. He wasn't just surprised Killian had found us.He looked like a man watching someone re
Elowen's POVI locked my desk drawer, slipped my personal phone into my inner jacket pocket, and stood up before the adrenaline had time to cloud my thinking.Outside my office, the ninetieth floor was still buzzing with the Hamburg memo. Associates were clustered around screens, and Croft was still locked in his glass office arguing with someone on speakerphone. Nobody looked up as I walked past the reception desk. I took the fire stairs down three flights to eighty-seven, caught a service elevator to the sub-basement, and walked out through the delivery bay onto Fulton Street.Leo had said no street cabs. I didn't take the subway either. I walked four blocks through the midday crowd, blending into the lunchtime rush of gray overcoats, before hiring a private car from an independent livery desk off Water Street.Pier 17 smelled of low tide, diesel exhaust, and cold harbor wind.
Elowen's POVThe executive floor at Vane Global had the hushed, uneasy energy of a hospital waiting room.Nobody was running. Nobody was shouting. But every conversation seemed to be happening behind half-closed doors, or in low, hurried pairs by the water stations and elevator banks. When Elsbeth Koch walked out the night before, she hadn't just resigned a title. She'd pulled the cork out of the entire hierarchy underneath her, leaving ninety floors of corporate machinery running on momentum and unanswered questions.I arrived just before nine, stepping off the elevator in my charcoal suit, my heels sharp against the terrazzo floor.The glass-walled corner office at the end of the east corridor sat dark. Koch’s assistant was still at her desk outside it, staring at a blank computer monitor like she was waiting for someone to tell her whether she still had a job to do. Across t







