Even though the day had passed, the strong aroma of custom jasmine perfume remained in the air of Nielle's private dressing room, a place of luxury and luxury only a few blocks from the Richason corporate tower. The sharp light of Manhattan afternoon was cut off by thick, velour drapes, which gave the room a warm, amber light.
Nielle was in front of the mirror, drawing a small, indistinct outline from the mark Zeth had left the night before on her neck, just above her collar bone. She took care of her silk robe and her smile was thin and triumphant. His memory was still fresh and his powerful, heavy frame that he pinned her against the mahogany desk, his intoxicating victory meant she was nearer than ever to having the keys to the entire multi-billion dollar dynasty.
The private servic
