The Truce
At 2:00am, the air inside the master penthouse suite was quiet.
Emily lay perfectly still beneath the silk sheets, but mind was a chaotic grid of calculations, bracing for the inevitable moment when she would need to defend herself. Sleep was a luxury for her as a subtle shift in the room's atmosphere made her snap her eyes back open.
Since Tony came back after his midnight meeting with Louis and Richard, he hadn't said a word to her. Not even when she tried to provoke him. He quietly poured himself a drink, went to his corner chair, sat down and faced the large window, looking out on the street of NewYork.
Emily knew something was wrong. Her eyes finally closed. By 6:00am her alarm woke her.
She looked and Tony was still on that chair, looking out the window, his half drunk wine almost slipping from his hand. He hadn't closed his eyes, not even for a second. Now Emily began to panic.
"Tony?" She called out, her voice filled with concern. "What's happening?"
