~NICO~

I’m halfway down the stairs when I see her.

Elena.

She’s standing by the dining table, sunlight spilling through the window and catching the curve of her hair, the shimmer of her skin.

For a second, I think I’m imagining her….because no one should look like that this early in the morning.

She turns slightly, and I catch a better look at her outfit. Tight. Short. Soft fabric hugging every curve in a way that makes my pulse stumble.

What the hell is she wearing?

She's wearing a black leather skirt that clings to her thighs. A cream silk top that dips low enough to show the swell of...