Chapter 2 - The Silhouette in the Doorway
The heavy mahogany door was pushed open.
The brass hinges did not make a single sound.
A shadow fell across the white marble, cutting a sharp, dark line through the chandelier’s golden reflection.
Julian stood in the doorframe.
His all-black suit absorbed the harsh bathroom light, making him look like a void in the middle of a white canvas.
His dark brown hair was perfectly styled, a slight wave falling over his forehead.
His black dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the sharp, tense line of his clavicle.
He did not walk in immediately.
His polished leather oxfords stopped exactly at the brass threshold separating the hallway from the bathroom.
His chest stopped moving.
His eyes, usually the color of calm, deep water, locked onto the torn fabric of Elara’s shoulder.
He saw the tremor in her fingers.
He saw the red swelling on her calf.
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The muscles along his jawline pulled tight, rigid as steel cables snapping to attention.
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