Chapter 128: Beneath the Quiet Surface
Morning came to Manhattan with a pale gray sky, the kind that seemed harmless at first glance yet carried the promise of rain. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, the city looked distant, almost unreal, as if it belonged to another life entirely.
Scarlett stood barefoot on the marble floor, a cup of tea warming her hands. She had slept, but not deeply. There was a lingering tension in her chest, something she could not name, something that refused to leave even in the presence of calm.
Behind her, Julian adjusted the cuff of his shirt, his reflection sharp in the mirror. He had already taken two calls that morning, both in low, controlled tones that revealed nothing and everything at once.
"You're thinking too much again," he said without turning.
Scarlett glanced at his reflection. "You're listening too much again."
A faint smirk touched his lips. "Occupational hazard."
