The morning sun crept slowly above the city skyline and cast golden ripples across its high-rise buildings. Isabella stood in Leon's penthouse apartment, staring out the window as the light spilled across the horizon. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the battle was finally done, and there was no war.
It had been the destruction of the Phoenix Group, the leaders behind bars, and their Functional influence in shambles. The Harrington empire was safe, that which had once teetered on the brink of destruction. But more importantly, Isabella felt free-finally free from her father's misdeeds and free of being at the mercy of secrets that had haunted her for such a long period of time.
Behind her, Leon stirred, the hum of his presence constant and reassuring. He moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist, tugging her close. "What are you thinking?" he murmured against her ear.
