Chapter 84

Rose stepped out of the black sedan, her eyes adjusting to the fading daylight as she gazed up at the gleaming skyscraper. The doorman nodded respectfully as she entered the marble lobby, her heels clicking against the polished floor, the last vestige of her former life’s confidence.

The private elevator climbed sixty floors without stopping. She studied her reflection in the mirrored walls, barely recognizing the woman staring back. Her cheekbones jutted sharply beneath skin that had lost its glow. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Only her expression remained unchanged, cold determination etched into every line.

“You made it,” Herod Preston said as the elevator doors slid open directly into his penthouse. He stood framed against floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan sprawled behind him like a glittering carpet. “Welcome to your new home.”

“Temporary arrangement,” Rose corrected, stepping into the vast space. Her gaze swept across Italian furniture, original artwork,