Chapter 48. Reforging the Ribbon

Ledger’s penthouse stirred under the hush of early morning light. Cool gold spilled across the terrace, touching glass, silk, and skin. Harper stood alone at the edge, robe fluttering lightly, bare feet pressed to stone. The ribbon coiled on the marble ledge beside her—its shape loose, no longer a signal of dominance or deference, but the curled echo of a question not yet answered. The night behind her had ended in public victory and private rupture, and dawn brought not resolution, but aftermath.

Knox joined her wordlessly, a mug in one hand, his tie loosened and hair still sleep-mussed. He didn’t speak at first—just stood close, letting their silence breathe. When he finally did speak, it was not a question, but a recognition.

“You grounded Ledger yesterday. But the ribbon…” He glanced at it, then her. “Is it still ours?”

For a beat, Harper didn’t answer. His question felt heavier than silk—like something else lay beneath it, waiting.

She didn’t look at him