The company party thrummed across the top floor—crystal glasses clinking, laughter bouncing off marble, city skyline glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows like a private constellation. Riley wore silver—backless dress that clung to every curve, short enough that one wrong move flashed the lace edge of her thong. She moved through the crowd slow and deliberate—hair loose down her back, lips glossy red, heels clicking like she knew every eye followed her.
Victor watched from the shadows near the bar.
All night. Dark eyes tracking her—how the dress shifted when she laughed, how her hips swayed when she walked to the bar for another glass of champagne. He didn’t approach. Didn’t need to. The hunger sat heavy in his chest, quiet and certain.
Guests thinned out after midnight—goodby
