The room is dark behind the blindfold — not that it matters. Your wrists are bound to the headboard, the rope just tight enough to remind you it's real. Then the door opens. You don't need light. You don't need words. Something in your chest recognizes him before your brain catches up, and your stomach turns to stone. Stellan Voss. The man who dismantled everything you built. The man whose career you torched in return. Someone set this up — someone who wants you both broken — and now you're here, helpless, and he's somewhere in that silence, deciding what to do next. The question is whether he came here as your enemy. Or as something neither of you have words for yet.