That part…
I didn’t fully agree with.
“She doesn’t hate you,” I assured him.
Marcel looked at me and gave a faint, almost tired smile.
“Trust me… She does.”
His eyes started to close.
Not gone.
Just… shutting down.
Tired.
“I left her everything… with you,” he murmured.
I reached over, lifting the oxygen mask back into place.
Watched his chest rise.
Fall.
Still alive.
But not for long.
I didn’t say anything else.
There was nothing else to say.
I turned and walked out.
By the time I got back to my estate in Monaco, the city had settled into that late-night calm.
Yuna and Emily were already asleep.
I could tell without even going into their bedroom.
The space felt still in that soft way it only did when Yuna was actually resting.
As I walked by the room, I started thinking about how we hadn’t been the same for the last couple of weeks.
Not bad.
Just… distant.
Less physical.
Less intense.
I’d been working.
Moving.
Handling shit for my new seat at the table.
