The elevator was glass on three sides, a sleek bullet rising through the heart of the city’s newest glass tower. Lila had come here on a whim—heard the rooftop bar on the 52nd floor had the best view in Kano and a martini menu that didn’t apologize for its prices. She wore a charcoal pencil skirt that hugged her hips like a second skin, a cream silk blouse unbuttoned one button too far, and heels that clicked with quiet authority. No panties tonight. The secret made every step feel like foreplay.
The doors opened on the 38th floor.
He stepped in without looking up from his phone at first. Mid-thirties, maybe forty. Black bespoke suit, crisp white shirt, cufflinks glinting like tiny blades. Dark hair perfectly cut, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. When he finally lifted his gaze, it lan
