CHAPTER 165

　　Olivia's POV

　　I leaned against the glass railing of Christopher's penthouse balcony, taking in the morning view of Manhattan while sipping my coffee. The city sprawled beneath me like a giant mechanical beast coming to life. Yellow cabs dotted the streets like tiny insects, and the early morning sun painted the glass buildings in shades of pink and gold.

　　My hair whipped around my face in the high-altitude breeze, dark strands dancing at the corners of my vision. From up here, the world looked different - cleaner, more organized, less chaotic than it did from street level.

　　The distance transformed the usual morning rush into an orchestrated ballet. Pedestrians flowed between buildings like schools of fish, their movements precise and purposeful when viewed from above. Even the constant symphony of horns and sirens felt muted, softened by the elevation into something almost musical.