The New Breakfast

The morning light hit the penthouse glass like a blade drawn across marble, warm for once instead of cutting. Julian stood at the edge of the breakfast table, the same long slab that had felt like a courtroom the day Elena first sat across from him with nothing left to lose. Today the surface held only two black cups and a shallow glass tray already dusted with fine ash.

He picked up the slim folder that contained what remained of their original contract—edges scorched, ink half-eaten by flame—and set it between them.

"Burned it at dawn," he said. "No copies. No backups."

Elena’s fingers paused on the handle of her cup. She studied the ash, then lifted her gaze to his. The lethal envelope from Marcus still lay unopened on the sideboard behind her, a silent third presence at the table. She had refused to let Julian open it alone last night; she had also refused to let fear dictate the next move.

"You really did it," she said, voice low but steady. "No more clauses. No more exit ramps written in legalese."

Julian gave a single nod. "We d

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