The luxurious hotel room is dim and silent, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the evening light. Only a single lamp burns in the corner, casting long shadows across the walls, across the furniture, across my face.
I sit on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back with deliberate calm. My hands rest on my knees. My spine is straight. My face is cold, composed—the mask of Zyren Kael, the mask I wear in boardrooms and negotiations, the mask that has never failed me.
But beneath it, anger burns like a slow fire, consuming everything else.
I want to know why. I need to know what he did. The thought circles in my mind—relentless, sharpening my edges.
A soft click breaks the silence. The key card. The door opens, and Moon steps inside.
He turns on the lights, and his blue eyes find me immediately. For just a moment—a flicker, nothing more—surprise crosses his face.
