The realtor's heels clicked like nervous gunfire across the marble foyer.
She was saying something about square footage and smart-home integration, but Alex wasn't listening. Neither was Ethan. They'd stopped at the threshold of the master suite and the rest of the world had simply… faded.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the entire city below them.
Downtown LA glittered like spilled diamonds against the late-afternoon haze. Farther out, the Pacific stretched lazy and blue, a thin silver line that promised escape whenever they needed it. The room itself was empty—no furniture yet, just clean white walls, dark hardwood floors, and the kind of silence that felt expensive.
Ethan stepped forward first.
Barely a sound. His sneakers whispered across the floor like he was afraid to break the spell. He stopped at the window, hands in his pockets, shoulders loose for the first time in days. The golden light caught in his hair, turned it molten.
Alex came up behind him slow.
