The night was warm, the city lights twinkling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian’s penthouse. The air was thick with tension—not from rivalry or threats, but from the electric chemistry that had always simmered between them. Tonight, after their emotional breakthroughs, that tension had reached its boiling point.
Isabella leaned against the marble countertop in the kitchen, a glass of wine in hand, watching Adrian with an intensity that made his chest tighten. Every glance, every subtle movement reminded her of how deeply she desired him, how much the emotional trust they had built only fueled the erotic fire.
“You’re staring again,” she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice.
“I can’t help it,” he murmured, voice low, magnetic. “Every time I look at you, I just… want you.
