Lucia did not sleep.
She lay still in the narrow hours before dawn, eyes open, listening to the quiet architecture of the building breathe around her. Systems hummed. Elevators whispered. Somewhere below, the city continued its slow awakening, unaware that several lives were being quietly rearranged within its ribs.
Dominic's presence lingered like a bruise she refused to press and could not ignore.
She had told herself that letting him stay nearby was strategy. Leverage. Proximity as containment. The lie almost held until she closed her eyes and saw his hand hovering at her waist, not claiming, not demanding, only waiting.
Waiting had always been his most dangerous skill.
"Elena," Lucia murmured.
"I'm here," Elena replied instantly.
"Status."
"Anna is resting. Medically cleared. Psychological stress elevated but stable. Your son remains undisturbed. No perimeter breaches."
Lucia nodded once. "Dominic."
