The clock tolled eleven slow strokes—deep into the night. Outside, the sky darkened ominously, brewing tomorrow's torrential storm.
The woman in his arms sniffed sharply, then slipped from his embrace and vanished without a word.
Carlos clung to a facade of calm, jaw clenched like a vice.
Yuki studied the man before her with grudging curiosity. He was Frankfurt's most feared figure, the catch every socialite schemed to land—yet here he stood, wrapped around one woman's finger.
"Thanks for earlier," she said, arching a brow. Her outstretched hand hung between them before retreating at his indifference. "How about we be friends?"
"Seems the rumors about President Radiance's icy demeanor weren't exaggerated." Her gaze dissected him. The resemblance to Elvis was uncanny, but this man carr
