Raya sat quietly by the floor-to-ceiling window, knees drawn up against her chest, her chin resting lightly on them as she stared out at the city below.
From this height, the world looked deceptively calm.
Cars moved like obedient ants, lights blinking in neat patterns, lives unfolding without knowing, or caring, about the lies stacked on top of lies inside this penthouse. The view was beautiful in the way expensive things always were. Carefully curated. Polished and untouched by consequence.
This penthouse was different from the mansion.
Too different.
Here, Adrian's men moved with discipline that bordered on reverence. They spoke little, watched much, and when their eyes landed on her, there was no mockery in them. No judgment. No thinly veiled contempt.
Respect.
