Tynan sat in his office at the penthouse, the grand view of the woods sprawling out beneath him, unnoticed as he fidgeted with the pen in his fingers.
The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of the leather chair as he shifted.
He had expected to feel a sense of relief, a surge of satisfaction, after everything he'd done to Lucia.
After seeing her cry, watching her crumble under his control, he thought the fire inside him would finally be extinguished, that the hollow ache would be filled with a sense of accomplishment.
But the satisfaction he had imagined was elusive, like a shadow slipping through his fingers.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as the weight of it all pressed down on him.
His mind kept replaying the events of the past few days, the way Lucia had looked at him, the broken expression in her eyes.
