Chapter 74 A Secret She Can't Share

Genevieve jolted upright in bed, one hand pressed against her damp forehead, the other tangled in the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets that now felt like a noose. A bitter taste crawled up her throat, acidic and sharp. Her stomach twisted, not with hunger, but with dread. The penthouse stretched around her in cold, echoing silence. Walls of pristine white and grey glass stared back, sterile and soulless. She blinked against the slivers of dawn slicing through the windows. Her body was not her own this morning. Something inside was shifting.