Rafael Vexley's bedroom seemed to shrink around him, shadows clinging to the corners like they knew something he didn't. The intercom's sharp buzz still pulsed in his head, chased by the security guard's brisk voice: "Mr. Vexley, there's a man here to see you. Says his name is Jason Asher."
Rafael's jaw locked, his fingers tightening on the armrests of his wheelchair until his knuckles went pale. Jason Asher. Even hearing the name was like striking a match in a room full of gasoline fumes. Heat flared under his skin—not the kind born of fear, but of a fury that had no business feeling so personal. Jason, Eliana's golden boy… the worthless fiancé with a perfect smile, polished enough to hide whatever rotted beneath it.
His pulse was a drumbeat in his ears, but when he spoke, his voice was calm—too calm. "Let him in," he said, each word cooled to ice.
