Killian left the meeting at one in the morning. The warehouse on the edge of the city was still thick with cigarette smoke and half-finished arguments about shipments, but he didn’t care. The deal could wait. Something had been sitting wrong in his gut since he’d driven out that afternoon, a low, restless pressure he couldn’t name and didn’t try to. He stood up mid-sentence, buttoned his dark jacket, and said, “We finish tomorrow.” No explanation. The other men just nodded, eyes lowered. They knew better than to ask.The drive back took almost four hours. Rain started halfway, drumming against the SUV. Killian sat in the back, one hand resting on his knee, staring at the black road ahead. Marco rode shotgun and kept quiet. The estate gates finally rolled open at two seventeen. Killian stepped out before the driver could circle around. He wanted to see her. That was all. Just walk into her room, look at her asleep, and let the tightness in his chest ease the way it always did.He went
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