The next morning came without mercy.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Cross mansion, soft and golden, completely at odds with the heaviness inside.
Aria stood outside Damian’s bedroom door, her hand raised.
She knocked.
Once. Twice.
No answer.
“Damian?” she called gently.
Silence.
Her brows knit together. She pulled out her phone and dialed him.
It...