A heavy silence hung over the penthouse that morning.
The confrontation at the drop-off zone last night had left a vivid, lingering scar in the air. After Ren had cut Dio down and dragged Yurin upstairs, the young CEO had fallen into a profound dead silence. No shouting. No explosive, rabid outbursts like his past self.
There was only a stifling embrace that locked Yurin against his chest the entire night, holding him so tight it was hard to breathe, as if terrified his little bird would vanish into thin air. The weight of that silence kept Yurin awake almost until dawn.
Ren had woken up at the crack of dawn. Dressed in his usual, immaculate dark suit, the tall man sat sipping black coffee at the small table by the window. His eyes stared out through the massive glass pane, looking over the sprawling capital that was still damp from the fierce rainstorm.
