The flight from the Mediterranean to Manhattan had been a blur of pressurized cabin air, the hum of jet engines, and the stifling presence of medical droids. Rage hadn't spoken more than ten words during the crossing. He had sat across from her, a glass of untouched scotch in his hand, his silver-gray eyes fixed on her stomach as if he were trying to decode the very DNA of the children she carried.Now, the elevator of the Vane Tower ascended with a sickeningly smooth speed. The digital floor indicator climbed past eighty, ninety, a hundred.When the doors slid open, Sabizina didn't step out. She couldn't.The penthouse wasn't a home; it was a fortress of glass and white marble suspended in the clouds. The last time she had been here, it was a cold, minimalist bachelor pad. Now, it had been transformedd."Welcome home, Sabizina," Rage said, his voice echoing in the vast, open space.She stepped out, her feet sinking into a rug so plush it felt like walking on a cloud. The floor-to-cei
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