Something changed after the night with Luca.

Dante stopped leaving for long stretches. Meetings were cancelled. Calls were taken in the bedroom with one hand still resting on my bare hip. He began staying in the penthouse until late afternoon, sometimes not leaving at all. When he did go out, he returned earlier than before, eyes already searching for me the moment the elevator doors opened.

The rules tightened.

I was to be waiting—dressed the way he liked, hair down, no underwear. The second he walked in, I was to come to him. Some evenings he only kissed me deeply and held me against the glass while the city glittered...