At Stephen Moretti's sleek modern apartment, the atmosphere was unbearably tense. The floor-to-ceiling glass walls offered a stunning view of the glittering city skyline, and the expensive designer furniture, warm golden lighting, and carefully chosen artwork did nothing to ease the icy silence stretching between the couple.
Since Stephen had returned home, Diana Sinclair had not spoken a single proper word to him. Not one. She had been deliberately ignoring him for hours, moving through the luxurious space like a ghost, cold, distant, and untouchable. Every time he tried to approach, she would walk away, her silence sharper than any accusation.
And now, after yet another failed attempt to reach her in the bedroom, Diana stormed out again. Her steps were stiff and angry as she headed toward the sitting room, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if holding her emotions together by sheer force of will.
Stephen exhaled sharply, his patience fraying at the edges, and followed her.
