Chapter 67 Gone Before Dawn

The morning was still dark, a pale bruise of light just beginning to press against the velvet curtains of the penthouse bedroom. Genevieve stirred beneath the silk sheets, her lashes fluttering as if caught in a dream. The space beside her was empty. Not just empty, cold. No trace of warmth, no scent of his skin, not even the shallow impression of his body in the mattress. She rolled over, a slow frown creasing her face. “Silas?” Her voice cracked, unsure whether to be worried or angry.