Soft jazz drifted through the penthouse that night, though neither of them heard it.Damian sat on the edge of the couch, shirt sleeves rolled up, a glass of untouched whiskey glinting beside him. His gaze was fixed on the flickering city skyline—but his mind was trapped years back, in a night soaked with mistakes he had buried too deep.Elena stood by the door, watching him from the dim light. Silence weighed between them heavier than anger ever could. She had said nothing since they left the office. He hadn’t explained. And that, somehow, hurt more.When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost brittle.“Project Phoenix,” she said, each syllable measured. “What is it?”Damian’s fingers tightened around the glass until it cracked. “Where did you hear that name?”“I found it in the archives,” she admitted, stepping closer. “Julian was there. He said—”His head snapped up. “Julian Crane was with you?”“Yes. He said the project involved you, Vivienne, and Marcus. He said it destro
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