Emily’s POV

The cab ride back from Bellmont felt like absolute torture.

Every time the driver hit a pothole on Fifth Avenue, a sharp, electric throb shot straight through my core. I sat in the back seat with my knees pressed tightly together, my heart hammering against my ribs, my cashmere sweater feeling suffocatingly warm against my skin.

BUZZ.

My phone vibrated in my palm. I looked down at the screen, my breath catching in my throat.

Daniel: I’m leaving the office now. Stay in the penthouse. Don’t move.

A shiver ran down my spine. He’d actually done it. He’d walked out of his multi-billion-dollar corporate headquarters in the middle...