Kemi arrived at the penthouse the following Tuesday carrying the familiar weight of anticipation and shame. The city hummed far below the towering windows as she stepped inside, her silk blouse and pencil skirt chosen with more care than any therapist should admit. She had tried to rationalize it all week—another session, more data, professional curiosity but the ache between her legs told the real story.
Kai opened the door, and the sight of him hit her like it always did. Tall, impeccably dressed, tattoos teasing from beneath his rolled sleeves, that intoxicating custom cologne wrapping around her. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it while thinking. And he had been thinking—about Elara.
“She’s resting,” Kai said softly, voice laced with something almost r
