NATE'S POV
The morning air outside the prison hit me like a physical blow cold, sharp, and brutally real. I pulled the collar of my jacket high; the silk tie Adrian had fastened feeling like a noose against my throat. I was wearing a clean, pressed shirt, but beneath the impeccable facade, my body screamed betrayal. Every muscle ached, marked by the punishing intensity of the night, and the lingering scent of Adrian's skin on mine was a chemical reminder of my complete collapse. The faint, dark shadows of the secure suite clung to my clothes, to my hair, to the very marrow of my bones.
