The alarm on the bedside table buzzed with merciless precision at 6:00 on Monday morning.
The penthouse was dead silent, save for the hum of the central heating.
Anthony sat upright in the center of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He was dressed in a sharp, tailored charcoal suit, his cufflinks fastened, his dark hair neatly styled—the quintessential, untouchable billionaire CEO ready to conquer Wall Street.
Across the room, in the master en-suite, the sound of the shower ran steady.
A few minutes later, the glass door clicked open, and Jasmine stepped out wrapped in a plush white towel. She wore a chic, structured grey blazer dress over her arm, her dark hair sleek and professional.
She walked into the bedroom, catching Anthony’s eye as he buttoned his suit jacket. She ra
