NATALYA

The fluorescent lights of the accounting firm had spent the last eight hours carving a pounding headache on my skull.

By the time I turned the key in the lock of Max’s penthouse, my shoulders were up around my ears and my feet were screaming in my designer pumps.

I loved Max, and I loved this apartment—a sprawling, glass-walled penthouse worth a fortune. But tonight, the silence felt heavy. I dropped my bag on the marble island and collapsed onto the soft, dreamy sofa, my phone immediately vibrating against my thigh. It was a notification. A new message from my boyfriend.

Max: Miss me yet, beautiful?😘

I smiled despite...