The dawn light in Avernon City had never felt so blue. Inside the penthouse's master bedroom, the air was still heavy with the remnants of last night's passion—the scent of sweat, expensive perfume, and intertwined despair. Anna woke up with pain throughout her body, a physical reminder that she had just surrendered the last of her soul to the man who was staring out the large window with his back tense.
Alaric was already dressed. His white shirt was immaculate, but he hadn't put on his suit jacket yet. He stood there, observing the city that was preparing to judge him, holding a crumpled document in his hand.
"You're awake," Alaric's voice was flat, but there was a protective tone he couldn't hide.
Anna pulled the silk blanket to cover her body, sitting slowly on the edge of the messy bed. "What is that?"
Alaric turned around. His eyes were red, a sign that he hadn't slept a wink after their heated struggle. He threw the document onto the mattress, right next to Anna's hand.
