Chapter 4. Shadows of the Past
The next morning, Elara woke before dawn.
She hadn’t dreamed, at least, nothing she remembered. But there was a dull ache behind her eyes, like her subconscious had wrestled with itself all night. She stood by the window, watching the city slowly shift from darkness to gold.
She didn’t belong here.
Not in this penthouse. Not in this marriage. Not with him.
By the time she stepped into the dining room, Damien was gone. Only a note remained, placed neatly beside a glass of orange juice and a slice of toasted sourdough.
"Meeting with the board. You’re free to do as you please. Driver is available. – D."
She crumpled the note, tossed it aside.
But she still drank the juice.
Instead of staying cooped up, Elara took the car.