Kai Frost sat motionless in the leather armchair of his office, the amber glow of the city beyond the glass walls flickering like distant embers. The dim lighting only made the silence heavier. The world outside was moving at its usual cutthroat pace—but within these walls, doubt hung like a fog.
He rarely second-guessed himself. That wasn't the Frost way. Doubt was for the sentimental, for those weak enough to look back. And yet…
Bertha.
She wasn't supposed to matter. She was a means to an end—her abduction a calculated strategy to pressure her high-ranking parents. Politicians with too much power and not enough loyalty. The moment she was taken into custody, they had reached the point of no return.
So why the unease?
Kai stared into his untouched glass of bourbon. The ice had melted, diluting its strength. Fitting. Because for the first time in years, he felt something like weakness clawing at his chest.
The soft knock on the door was anything but timid.
