The city outside Alex Knight’s penthouse glittered as if nothing had changed, but Tracy Morgan knew something had.
The night before clung to her like perfume—heady, disorienting, impossible to wash away. She had seen a version of Alex that most people didn’t even believe existed: softer, fragile, almost human beneath all the cold steel. He had let the weight of his empire, his rivals, and his loneliness c***k his armor, if only for a fleeting moment. And she, Tracy Morgan, had been there to see it.
Now it was morning, and reality didn’t feel nearly as forgiving.
Tracy rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, not from sleep but from the whirlpool of emotions pulling at her chest. She thought she knew what she wanted when she signed that cursed contract: survi
