The transformation of the Obsidian penthouse was nothing short of miraculous, yet it carried an air of suffocating finality.
In the span of twelve hours, Ethan had turned his fortress of glass and steel into a sanctuary worthy of a queen, or perhaps, a high-security prison disguised as a paradise. The usually stark, masculine corridors were now draped in shimmering silver silk that rippled like liquid moonlight whenever the air conditioning cycled.
But it was the flowers that took Emily’s breath away.
"Moon-blooms," she whispered, touching a velvet-soft petal of a luminescent white flower that had been arranged in massive crystal vases throughout the living area. They glowed with a faint, ethereal light, casting long, dancing shadows against the warded glass windows.
They were beautifu
