Rodrigo stood at the entrance of his room for a moment before he pushed it open.
His eyes met the empty room.
She was not in.
The bed was undisturbed, the lamps low, the evening air coming through the gap in the curtains. He stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind him.
He'd told himself he didn't care when Seven reported what Dominic had done. He'd continued with work and told himself it was nothing, she meant nothing, yet here he was, standing in the middle of his own room at this hour, looking at the space she wasn't in.
He'd told her to disappear. Had she —
He crossed to the wardrobe before he could stop himself and pulled it open. Her clothes were still there, arranged in their rows. He stood looking at them for a long second, the crease in his brows easing. Then he closed the door.
A sound came from the balcony.
He crossed to it and opened the door.
