Chapter 19: Cracks in the armour

Chapter 19: Cracks in the armour

Fiona’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, the cursor blinking accusingly on the same half-finished sentence for the third time in ten minutes. The rain had returned—soft, steady, drumming against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the 38th floor like it was trying to get inside her head. The bay outside looked flat and gray, the Elyrian Peaks swallowed by low cloud. Everything felt muted. Heavy. Wrong.

She hadn’t slept. Not really. She’d lain awake most of the night, replaying the kiss in Martin’s office over and over until her lips felt raw from the memory. The way he’d grabbed her face like he couldn’t wait another second. The way his mouth had crashed into hers—desperate, possessive, tasting like coffee and fury and something dangerously close to need. The way she’d kissed him back without thinking, hands fisting his shirt, body arching toward him like it remembered exactly where it belonged.

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