EMMA'SPOV POV
The city was restless, as if it had sensed the shift in the world before anyone else did. Rain streaked the glass windows of Emma's apartment, blurring the streets below into abstract strokes of gray and gold. She watched the distorted city, feeling the edges of it press against her consciousness, reminding her that visibility was never neutral. Every movement, every decision, was already being measured by someone, somewhere, and her own pulse had started to drum in response to that awareness.
Damian's presence was immediate, quiet, commanding in its subtlety. He leaned against the doorway, one hand in his pocket, watching her, his eyes alert and calculating.
"You're awake early," he said, voice low.
"I didn't sleep," she admitted. "Not properly. Too many thoughts."
He came closer, the air shifting around him as if he carried gravity in his wake. "About Sterling?"
