I couldn't sleep after Damien left.
Free. I was free. The contract that had bound me to this penthouse, to this man, to this impossible situation was void. Damien had released me without conditions, without demands, without anything except a warning to be careful.
I should have felt relieved. Triumphant, even.
Instead, I felt more lost than ever.
I sat on my bed, staring at my phone. Sarah's message glowed in the darkness: Brighton has eyes everywhere. The longer you stay in one place, the easier you are to find.
Was she right? Was staying here making me a target?
Or was Damien right? Was leaving exactly what Brighton or someone else wanted me to do?
I thought about the voice recording on my phone. About Vincent's voice captured on it, confessing to decades of cover-ups and corruption. About the evidence that could bring down a US Senator.
