I stand in the penthouse of Kaiden Starkwell's skyscraper, facing the panoramic window. The night city below breathes, pulses, flickers—like a vast living organism that never sleeps and never will for anyone's feelings. The lights stretch all the way to the horizon, and it seems to me that each one hides a secret. Including mine.
Kaiden stands behind me. His arms wrap around my waist with confidence, almost possessively. The warmth of his body is pleasant, even soothing. I let myself relax for a second. Exactly one second.
"I've grown very attached to you, Isabella Delacour," he says sincerely, quietly, almost vulnerably, pressing his cheek near my ear.
Of course you have.
I smile at our reflection in the glass. We look beautiful. Almost perfect.
He is mature, successful, assured.
I am young, refined, desirable.
A picture worthy of a glossy magazine cover.
But you're not the first. And, sadly, not the last, I think coldly.
In a few weeks or months, another beauty will be standing here. Maybe with different hair. Maybe with a louder laugh. And you'll whisper the same words to her, in the same tone, with the same expression. Men like you don't change—they just redecorate.
I turn in his arms, lift my gaze, let my eyes soften, almost fall in love.
"Kaiden… I've been very lucky in life," I say, carefully measuring every emotion. "I met the best man. And now he's right here with me. For the first time, I feel this happy."
An Oscar for me. Or at least another ring.
He looks at me as if I've said something sacred. At that exact moment, his phone rings. So inappropriate. So businesslike. I almost laugh to myself—reality always knows when to interrupt.
Kaiden frowns and answers.
"I'm busy right now."
A pause.
"Postpone the meeting until tomorrow."
Another pause.
"…All right. I'll come down to you now."
He ends the call and sighs. I see it's not irritation. More like habit. His life is made of meetings, floors, decisions. And I am just a beautiful episode between them.
"Sorry, Isabella," he says, turning me toward him and taking my hands in his. "I'll step out for a bit. A business meeting. I need to go down ten floors—to the office."
Ten floors.
Ten floors—and the entire penthouse will be mine.
I tilt my head slightly, letting my smile grow slow, promising.
"You're a businessman. Your work comes first," I reply, adding the faint note of eroticism he loves so much. "I'll wait. And I'll be ready to welcome you back."
I kiss him on the lips—softly, unhurriedly, leaving an aftertaste. Let him leave with that sensation. Let him think of me in the elevator. Let him hurry back.
He looks at me once more, as if he wants to say something… but he doesn't. He turns around and leaves.
**
The door closes behind Kaiden with a soft, almost tender click.
For some reason, that sound hits me harder than a gunshot.
I am alone.
The smile slowly slides off my face. I exhale, roll my shoulders, as if shedding a role along with the warmth of his body. I walk to the window and look down at the city.
The clock is ticking.
Somewhere in here—cameras.
Somewhere behind the walls—fiber-optic cables.
Somewhere in my pocket—the key to a future Kaiden has no idea exists.
Christian Grayson is waiting for results.
And this night will not end the way Kaiden expects.
Now or never.
I freeze for a second in the middle of the penthouse, listening to the silence. The elevator is gone. No footsteps. The cameras are quiet. My heart pounds so loudly it feels like they could hear it ten floors down.
"Move, Isabella," I whisper to myself. "Fast. Clean. No drama."
My fingers tremble as I pull a small remote device from my pocket. It's almost toy-like—thin, smooth, with a single button. Christian's voice echoes in my memory: "Don't think. Just press."
I press it.
Nothing happens.
Or too much happens at once.
"What if the system didn't go down?" the thought burns. "What if he already sees everything? What if the cameras are recording? What if security is on its way up right now?"
My legs turn weak. My mouth goes dry. For a second, I want to drop everything, hide in the bathroom, play the part of a foolish girl in love.
"No," I snap at myself. "That's not why you're here."
I walk to the fiber-optic panel. It looks at me like something alive—a mute witness that will remember every move I make. I open it. My hands no longer shake. Strange—fear retreats, replaced by cold clarity.
I pull out the connector. Insert the discreet implant device. One motion. Then another. I reconnect everything.
Done.
What if I made a mistake? That could cost me my life.
The thought terrifies me.
Next—the switch. I move toward it, feeling tension clamp down on my shoulders. I remove the small black box, the one that temporarily blinded the system. Slip it into my pocket. Close the panel.
No traces.
I stand in the middle of the penthouse and realize: the most dangerous thing here isn't the technology. The most dangerous thing is me. If I crack now—if I give myself away with a look, a gesture, a breath—it all falls apart.
"Easy, Isabella," I breathe out. "Now you're just a woman waiting for a man."
I go to the bathroom.
The light is warm. The mirrors are merciless. I look at myself—and I don't see a spy, not a con artist, not a pawn in someone else's game. I see a body. Desired. Alive. Dangerous.
Lingerie. Lace. Stockings. A bold silk robe that hides almost nothing. I put it on slowly, as if rehearsing a role. Tie the belt. Loosen the knot just a little—let him think it will undo itself.
When he comes back, his thoughts will be only about me.
And as if answering that thought, I hear footsteps.
"Isabella?" Kaiden's voice comes from the living room. "Where are you?"
"I'm coming," I answer, deliberately softer than necessary.
I pull on the stockings, straighten up, take a breath. Open the door.
He stands in the doorway. He looks at me—and everything else disappears. Mature, strong, confident… and completely defenseless in this moment.
I turn slightly sideways. Lift my arm. Arch my back just enough. The robe slips, revealing a leg in a stocking.
He exhales sharply.
His tie hits the floor. He steps toward me, decisive, almost hungry, and kisses me—deeply, hot, as if he wants to erase the entire day.
It works, flashes through my mind. It always works.
And then the door chime sounds.
Kaiden freezes. His body tenses like a drawn wire. He pulls away from me, clearly irritated.
"Who is it?" he asks sharply, pressing the intercom.
"Your security, sir."
My vision darkens.
That's it. The end. I'm caught.
The blood drains from my face. My heart drops somewhere near my heels. I already see the headlines. The interrogations. Christian shrugging and saying, "Pity."
Kaiden walks to the door. Opens it.
"What do you want?"
The guard looks inside. His gaze sweeps the room… lands on me… lingers too long.
"There was a security system anomaly. We're checking it. Are you all right, sir?"
One second.
Two.
An eternity.
"I'm perfectly fine," Kaiden says coldly, sharply. "You're interrupting me."
A pause.
"Apologies for the disturbance, sir. We'll identify the cause of the malfunction and won't trouble you again."
The door closes.
It takes me a moment to realize it's over.
Relief crashes over me so hard I almost sink to the floor. But I don't allow it. I step toward Kaiden, wrap my arms around him, kiss him—slowly, confidently, erasing the last of his suspicion.
He relaxes.
His caution melts on my lips.
And I think only one thing:
They found nothing.
But this is only the beginning of my secured future.