CHAPTER 75 — PRESSURE POINTS
The rain began just after midnight.
It fell steadily over the city, not violent enough to alarm, but persistent—soaking streets, blurring lights, muffling sound. From the upper floors of the Kane mansion, the world below looked distant and distorted, as though reality itself had been placed behind glass.
Elena stood near the window in the sitting room adjoining Adrian's study, watching droplets streak downward in uneven lines. Each one followed a different path, yet all ended the same way—disappearing into darkness.
Pressure, she thought, worked much the same way.
Behind her, the mansion was restless.
Not loud. Not chaotic. Just awake.
Footsteps passed at regular intervals. Doors opened, closed. Voices murmured in controlled tones. Somewhere deeper in the estate, a printer hummed, feeding out page after page of information that would shape decisions made before dawn.
No one slept easily tonight.
Especially not her.
