Chapter 37: The Man in the Penthouse
The city stretched out before him, glittering like a shattered mirror under the night sky. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, Devon watched the movement below—cars weaving through the streets, neon lights flickering against damp pavement, people slipping in and out of buildings like restless spirits. A city that never stopped moving, never stopped hiding secrets.
And one of those secrets was her.
Devon leaned back in his leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin as he watched the footage replay on the wide screen before him. The dim glow of the monitor illuminated the sharp planes of his face, casting shadows under his high cheekbones. His dark eyes flickered with amusement as the scene unfolded again.
There she was.
Cielle.
