~CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT~
HARDIN’S POV
Andrew meets me outside the door. I stretch my hand out without looking at him, and he places Amelia’s phone into my palm.
I walk upstairs slowly, the quiet of the penthouse pressing in around me. When I push open our bedroom door, she’s already there—sitting at the vanity in that red nightie.
The one that drives me insane.
Silk and thin straps.
It clings to her curves like it was designed by temptation itself. I’ve lost count of the nights I’ve watched her from the bed while she does her skincare routine, soft music playing, completely unaware of how dangerous she looks.
There’s something intimate about those moments—about watching her be simply Amelia instead of the wife of a mafia boss.
She doesn’t turn when I enter, but she sees me through t
