The silence in the penthouse was no longer the comfortable, velvet-draped sanctuary Lila had grown to love. It was sharp, cold, and smelled faintly of the rain hitting the floor-to-ceiling glass walls.
Ethan stood by the mahogany desk, his silhouette framed by the glittering Manhattan skyline. To the rest of the world, he was Ethan Blackwood the ruthless titan of industry, the billionaire with ice in his veins. But to Lila, he was the man who had whispered her name in the dark, the man who had finally made her feel like more than just a girl running from her past.
Until ten minutes ago. Until she found the folder.
"Lila, put it down," Ethan said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that usually sent shivers of desire down her spine. Tonight, it only made her blood run cold.
"Is it true?"
