DAMIEN
Macey actually listened. She didn’t show up at work the next day, and honestly? I was grateful.
I needed at least one peaceful morning before seeing her again, because that woman had a way of throwing me completely off balance. She could make a room spin just by entering it, and even when she wasn’t around, her energy lingered like perfume—intoxicating, impossible to ignore.
Except peace was the last thing I got.
The moment I walked into my office, there she was — Aliyah. Zinna’s friend. Sitting on my desk like she owned the place, legs crossed, chin tilted, wearing one of the most ridiculous outfits I’d ever seen.
Glitter, mesh, and something that might’ve once been a skirt. Honestly, it looked like she’d raided a pop star’s wardrobe after a three-day party.
She turne
