Dominic’s Pov
I did not book a crowded rooftop club. I did not hire a band, and I did not invite a single reporter or corporate partner.
When we slipped away from the gala, my black sedan didn’t head back toward our regular penthouse. Instead, it pulled up outside a quiet, high-rise glass tower on the edge of the city.
I unlocked the private top-floor suite and pushed the door open.
Sienna stepped inside, her tired dark eyes widening in pure surprise.
There were no expensive ice sculptures here. No flashing neon lights. The living room was warm and soft, filled with plush gray pillows and dim amber lamps. On the low marble table sat takeout boxes from her favorite little Italian restaurant downtown, a warm bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket, and a pair of soft cotton sweatpa
