As Edward waits in his penthouse, he feels no anticipation, no curiosity. He stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out over the cityscape without emotion. When the door opens and she enters, he turns, his gaze assessing. There’s no warmth in his greeting, just a brisk nod of acknowledgment. Her presence in his home is inevitable, a part of the unyielding machinery of his life. As he extends a cold hand in welcome, his mind is already calculating, viewing her as just another piece in his meticulously arranged world.