The climax came two weeks later, on a rainy Friday evening. The office was empty, the silence of the building amplifying every sound. Mira had spent the day playing them against each other—sending a suggestive text to Alaric during a meeting with Soren, and whispering a secret to Soren while Alaric was presenting a case.
By the time 6:00 PM rolled around, the atmosphere was combustible.
Mira was waiting for them in the main partner's lounge, a space filled with plush velvet sofas and a dim, moody lighting system. She was wearing a black lace slip dress that left nothing to the imagination, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
When Alaric and Soren entered together, they didn't speak. They didn't need to. The rivalry had evolved into a shared hunger, a mutual understanding that the on
