The city outside my penthouse throbbed — neon pulses, glass veins, steel hearts beating under my feet. It stretched endlessly, hungry and glittering, built on every man who believed he mattered. Tonight, they didn’t, only one person did.
I stood shirtless at the window, the cool glass under my palm at odds with the heat still trapped in my skin from her body, from the way she’d said my name like a surrender and a sin. “Imani Legend.” I said it out loud — slow, sharp, low — just to feel it move through the room like a claim.
Her scent lingered in my sheets. My pillow still held the indentation where her head had rested, where she’d fallen asleep unguarded, trusting, soft in ways she’d never let anyone else see. My skin still carried faint traces of her — like she’d soaked into my bloodstr
