Nasya's POV
My breath hitched sharply as I felt my heart hammer against my ribcage with such force I feared the bones might crack.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud. THUD-THUD.
Each pulsation sent fresh waves of heat flushing through my veins, the rhythm accelerating as Austin's vulnerable confession hung between us like smoke after a gunshot. The luxurious hotel suite suddenly felt too small, the air thick with unspoken chemistry.
"You're drunk," I managed to say, turning my face away as if the far wall held some vital secret. My voice emerged strangely thin, almost guilty - whether from the fresh grief of Austin's loss or my own treacherous emotions toward Harper, I couldn't discern. The lamplight caught the faint tremble in my hands, casting elongated shadows that danced across the silk duvet.
