The city hummed outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, a blur of neon gold and sterile white. Rain streaked the glass, distorting the skyline into a watercolor painting of urban loneliness. Inside, the air smelled of expensive roast coffee and the sandalwood scent that always clung to Julian.
I leaned against the kitchen island, my fingers tracing the cold marble. I wore a silk slip dress that barely skimmed my thighs, the fabric a pale champagne color that made my skin look flushed. I knew exactly how it looked. I knew how the thin straps threatened to slide off my shoulders every time I breathed.
Julian stood three feet away, staring at a tablet in his hand. He was thirty, a decade of experience and confidence etched into the lines around his eyes and the way he held h
