The Billionaire’s Silent Debt
"Never again. I’m done being your shield, Layla. From now on, I’m just Elena. Find another way to fix your life."
Layla rolled her eyes, her sympathy evaporating the moment it became inconvenient. "Fine. Be boring. But keep that money close. We’re going to need it sooner than you think."
After the door clicked shut, the silence returned, heavier than before. Elena sat on the floor, surrounded by her sketches. She reached for a charcoal pencil, the dark dust staining her fingers.
She didn't draw a logo. She didn't draw a layout.
She began to draw a pair of eyes—sharp, dark, and filled with a loneliness that mirrored her own. She drew the obsidian mask, the hard line of a jaw that didn't know
Bab Populer