. . . AUTHOR’S POV Vincein stormed into Vivian’s penthouse, his pulse hammering against his ribs. The air inside was thick with the remnants of lingering perfume and something else—something unspoken. The place was still, too still. Davian had entered just moments before him, yet now there was no sign of him. The dim lighting cast elongated shadows across the walls, and the silence hummed with an eerie anticipation. His sharp gaze swept across the spacious living room before landing on the kitchen. And that was when he saw her. Darlene. She stood at the counter, lifting a glass of water to her lips, her posture composed yet undeniably tempting. The soft golden light bathed her in an almost ethereal glow, accentuating every curve draped in delicate lace. A silk robe hung loos

