"I am aware."
The elevator doors open.
Kael steps out, nodding once.
"Everything is secure, sir. Ms. Beck's belongings have been placed in the primary suite."
"Thank you, Kael."
Kael's gaze flicks to me.
There's something in his expression—not quite approval, but close.
"Welcome home, Ms. Beck," he says again.
And then he's gone.
Cyprian's hand tightens on my back.
"Come," he says. "Let me show you your home."
The elevator ride is silent.
Not uncomfortable.
Just... surreal.
I'm standing in a private elevator with mirrored walls and soft lighting, watching the floor numbers climb higher and higher, wrapped in a coat that smells like volcanic stone and amber.
Cyprian stands beside me, one sprawling, towering frame resting on my shoulder.
He hasn't let go of me since we left my apartment.
Not in the transport.
Not in the garage.
Not now.
It's like he's afraid I'll disappear if he stops touching me.
The elevator slows.
The doors open.
And I step into another world.
The penthouse ismassive.
Floor-to-ceiling windows dominate the entire far wall, offering a panoramic view of the city's industrial district. The skyline glitters in the distance, but closer, I can see the sprawling factories and warehouses that make up the working heart of the city.
The space itself is minimalist.
Clean lines. Black glass. Polished obsidian surfaces. Everything is sleek and modern and temperature-controlled to perfection.
It's beautiful.
It's also completely terrifying.
