Mystery Night
Stefan's POV-
I leaned back in my leather chair, the Seryne skyline glittering outside my office window. My assistant, Carter, slid a dossier across the polished mahogany desk, his movements crisp, as ever. “Everything on Valenticia Clawford, sir,” he said, his voice short.
I opened the folder, and then came her photo — her silver dress, her posture. A strange feeling twisted in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. She wasn’t merely the desperate woman I’d sat down beside in my car, fleeing from abductors in her ripped gown.
She was the Clawford heiress.
Her brazen gala invitation to dinner — direct and without the usual scheming attached — stuck in my brain. The majority of women who came to me were wanting something—money, influence, a hold in my world. That greed wasn't i
