After leaving the hospital, Lucas didn't take Stephen back to the Blake's or Stephen apartment.
Instead, he drove him straight to his own luxurious penthouse on the top floor of one of the city's most exclusive towers. The entire drive was painfully quiet. No music. No conversation. Just the low hum of the engine and the occasional splash of tires cutting through puddles on rain-slicked roads.
Stephen sat slumped in the passenger seat, his head resting against the cool window, staring blankly at the blurred city lights that streaked across the glass like distant, indifferent stars. His eyes were swollen and red from hours of silent crying, yet somehow he looked even emptier now, hollowed out, as if the final conversation with Diana had carved out whatever remained of his heart. The man who once carried unbreakable loyalty now seemed lost in a fog of grief and exhaustion.
