Night had settled over the study, where dim yellow light painted shadows across the mahogany desk. The air felt thick, oppressive in a way that made the already stark room seem almost suffocating.
A figure sat behind the desk, radiating an aura of cold authority. Deep blue silk pajamas clung to his frame, a towel hanging loose around his neck. Damp hair fell across his forehead, framing features so sharp they could cut glass—handsome in the most dangerous way.
Files scattered across the desk caught his attention. Those long, elegant fingers moved with purpose, plucking out a single photograph from the pile. Sallie's face stared back at him from the glossy paper.
A slow smile curved his lips—predatory, hungry. "So it was you." His voice carried surprise, but underneath it, something much more primal. Excitement.
Without breaking his stare from the photo, he reached for his phone. His assistant picked up on the first ring.
