Eliana walked into George’s office like she owned the air inside it. The click of her heels echoed on the marble floor. She was wearing a fitted black gown that hugged her, the kind of dress that glimmered danger instead of elegance.

Her eyes were rimmed in darkness, and her lips were painted a glossy black that made her look beautifully lethal.

She pulled out a chair for herself without waiting for permission, sitting down with a smirk that made George’s jaw clenched.

“You let me in today?” she asked, crossing her legs as if she were posing for a magazine of madness.

George didn’t sit up.

He simply rested...