Sunlight poured through gauze curtains, warm and golden across silk sheets.
Kane's eyes opened.
The villa stretched quiet and pristine around him—white walls, polished marble, and that stunning ocean view framed by floor-to-ceiling windows.
His body felt weightless. Comfortable. No throb behind his temples, no pulse of synthetic poison burning through his veins.
Just... normal.
The air smelled of jasmine and salt, carried on a breeze that stirred the curtains in gentle waves.
Kane sat up slowly, testing the movement.
Nothing hurt. No dizziness, no off-center sensation like walking on tilting decks.
His gaze drifted to the nightstand. 7:07 AM glowed in soft blue digits.
He frowned, reaching for his phone—except the nightstand sat empty. No device charging, no scattered belongings from last night's return from the market.
Strange.
But the thought drifted away like morning mist, too ephemeral to grasp.
