The rain was a relentless, drumming against the reinforced glass of Charles’s corner office on the 60th floor. It was nearly midnight. The rest of the building was a ghost town, the fluorescent lights dimmed to a soft, amber glow that cast long, distorted shadows across the polished mahogany and slate.
Charles stopped tapping. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me, his grey eyes scanning me from my toes up to my lips.
"Is that so, Ariana? You think the risk is manageable?"
"I think some risks are worth taking," I replied, my voice trembling slightly.
He didn't say another word. He stood up, walked around the desk, and stopped right in front of me. He didn't touch me at first; he just stood there, his presence looming, the scent of sandalwoo
