Chapter 9
Markus Blackthorn’s penthouse
7:30 p.m.
Entering Markus’s office was an experience in itself.
With a cathedral-like towering ceiling, the double doors opened to a large wide space directly facing a seamless floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
Hannah’s feet took her toward it and she felt as if she was flying over Manhattan—as if she owned it. Nothing short of feeling like a goddess.
“It’s as close to floating on a cloud as one can conceivably get.”
Her senses snapped back in place by Markus’s tenor voice coming from her right.
Seated in an area comprised of black calf-skin sofa and black leather ebony armchairs, he perfectly fit the god part.
“Not exactly a white cloud on a blue sky,” she answered, her heels faintly clicking over the black marble floor.
“White clouds and blue
