Adrian's POV
Adrian walks through his penthouse that night and sees it like a stranger.
It's sterile. Cold. Everything is white and gray and expensive. The furniture is modern and untouched. There are no photos on the walls. No evidence that anyone actually lives here. No proof of life at all.
He moves from room to room. The kitchen gleams like nobody's ever cooked in it. The living room has a view that costs more than most people's houses, but there's nothing in it. Just space. Emptiness. The physical representation of his entire life.
He stops in front of the room that will be hers.
Three doors from his.
Close enough that he could hear her if she called. Far enough that she's completely separated from him. Three doors is a wall. A boundary. A reminder that she's here because of a contract, not because she chose to be.
Adrian stands in the empty room and tries not to think about how close and how far away three doors actually is.
Marcus finds him there.
