You stand at the center of it all. Barefoot on heated floors. A silk robe tied loosely at your waist.

Across the penthouse, a door opens.

Footsteps. Measured. Unhurried. The kind of footsteps that know every inch of this territory belongs to them.

He steps into the archway. Still in his suit jacket. Tie loosened. Two buttons undone at his collar. Shadows carve themselves into the hard planes of his face.

His eyes are the color of a winter sea—grey-green, cold, depthless.