Mack’s morning had started like most others—black coffee, back-to-back meetings, and a boardroom full of people talking too much and saying too little.
But beneath the surface of his usual efficiency, his thoughts were elsewhere.
More specifically: with her.
Viola.
The woman who challenged him, teased him, and haunted him in a way no one ever had.
Every time his phone buzzed, he wanted it to be her.
Every pause in the day, he replayed last night’s heat—her pressed against him on the dancefloor, her breathy moan when he pulled her close, and the way she said “Goodnight, Mack,” like it cost her something not to stay.
He hadn’t slept. Not really. Just lay there, hard and frustrated, the scent of her skin still stuck to his shirt.
By ten a.m., he was in his office, tie loosened, sleeve
