Adrian sat at the long dining table, flipping through a set of documents. His crisp white shirt was buttoned up except for the collar, and a dark suit jacket draped over the back of his chair. Every movement he made was deliberate and controlled.
He wasn’t one for leisurely breakfasts, but this morning, he found himself lingering. The remnants of their time in the shower floated around in his memory: Rhea’s soft gasps, the press of her slick body against his. His grip tightened around the cup at the thought.
Across from him, Luca was already halfway through his meal, his usual smirk in place. “Didn’t see you come down the whole of yesterday, brother,” Luca smiled, stabbing a piece of grape with his fork.
“Antoinette said you had given out instruction not to be disturbed the whole day.
