Mag-log in"If you do not stop clicking that Montblanc pen against my walnut desk like a ticking detonation timer, Julian, I am going to charge you double for this session and toss your little leather notebook straight out onto Madison Avenue," Dr. Evelyn Vance announced, peering over her tortoiseshell frames with a sharp, unbothered expression.I froze my thumb immediately, setting the heavy pen down onto the blotter with a soft click. I leaned back into the low-slung cognac leather armchair of the sleek, minimalist midtown consulting suite, staring at the frosted glass partition that separated this quiet sanctuary from the chaotic pulse of Manhattan outside.To the receptionist, to the medical directory, and to the intake forms sitting on Dr. Vance's desk, I was simply Julian Cross... a burned-out former finance director navigating post-corporate burnout. Nobody in this building knew that three months ago, my face had been plastered across every financial terminal on Wall Street as the disgrac
"If you do not stop pacing back and forth across my custom Persian rug like a feral, caged panther, Drake, I am going to summon Lucas from the lobby and have you physically escorted straight back across the East River to your cramped Queens walk-up," I declared, tossing the freshly printed advance copy of the global business magazine onto the obsidian coffee table with a sharp, decisive thud.Drake didn't halt his aggressive strides. His broad, imposing frame remained coiled with restless, predatory tension, his dark eyes locked onto the glossy cover of the publication like it was an incoming ballistic missile. "I am not pacing, Sabrina... I am calculating the exact tactical perimeter breach caused by having your personal net worth broadcasted to every predatory venture capitalist and fortune hunter in North America.""Let them calculate," I replied smoothly, sinking back into the plush velvet cushions of my Central Park penthouse sofa while crossing one silk-trousered leg over the ot
"If you do not stop adjusting that brutalist diamond cuff for the fifth time this hour, Sabrina, our elite VIP guests are going to think you are guarding a federal vault instead of curating your very own debut fine art gallery," Aria laughed, leaning against the obsidian display pedestal while sipping her sparkling water with an amused, teasing grin.I didn't blink, keeping my fingers steady as I secured the heavy platinum clasp of the centerpiece sculpture resting under the gallery's museum-grade spotlight. "I am guarding a vault, Aria... a vault containing every single piece of my soul forged into raw, unyielding metal.""It is giving absolute high-culture dominance," Theo declared, walking over with his tablet tucked neatly under his arm. "Every major art collector, international museum curator, and fashion mogul in New York City has cleared their schedule tonight. The gallery floor outside is already packed tighter than a subway car at rush hour.""Let them pack in," I said, my vo
I pulled him closer still, my fingers locking into the soft wool of his coat as his mouth claimed mine with a hunger that had been starved for half a year. The kiss deepened at once, fierce and wet and desperate, tongues sliding together in a rhythm that spoke of every sleepless night and every unanswered ache. Drake’s hand at my waist tightened until the silk of my blouse wrinkled under his grip, and the solid press of his body against mine sent a pure electric thrill racing down my spine.“I missed this,” he breathed against my lips, voice rough with feeling. “Missed the taste of you. Missed the way you fight me even when you want me.”“Then stop talking and take what you came for,” I answered, the words soft but sharp with need. My palms slid upward, pushing the coat from his shoulders. It fell in a dark heap on the floor. Beneath it the sweater clung to lean muscle earned in quiet exile, and I dragged my nails lightly over the fabric until he shuddered.He walked me backward witho
Six months of agonizing separation. Six months of believing he had discarded me with a cold check, only to discover he had burned his entire multi-billion-dollar empire to the ground just to keep my name out of a federal audit. He had given up his cars, his penthouse, his corporate title, and his very identity, retreating into the anonymous shadows of a Queens walk-up, all while watching me rise from the ashes.And now, he was stepping back into the light.A sharp, distinct chime echoed from the private ground-floor security lobby downstairs.I held my breath, listening through the open balcony doors as the wind whispered across Central Park South. A minute later, a soft, low metallic ding echoed from the private penthouse elevator shaft. The private car had risen past forty floors and bypassed every security checkpoint with master-level clearance... because the man inside still possessed the digital master override codes to my building.The brass doors parted with a quiet hiss.I did
Obsidian Obsession (Sabrina)"If you do not stop staring at our live server traffic dashboard like it is a ticking time bomb, Sabrina, I am going to call an actual ambulance because our digital backend just flatlined from pure, unadulterated viral chaos," Theo shouted across the soaring marble expanse of my Central Park penthouse, waving his tablet in the air like a frantic white flag.I slowly set my crystal coffee cup down onto the obsidian counter, keeping my focus entirely unshakeable as I adjusted the heavy geometric gold choker resting against my collarbone. "Theo, servers do not flatline from success... they upgrade. What are the metrics?""They are not just metrics, boss... they are a literal global digital avalanche," Aria laughed, sliding across the polished floor in her silk lounge slippers while shoving her glowing phone straight into my line of sight. "Look at TikTok. Your entire origin story just became the number one trending obsession across the entire internet."I gla
The elevator dinged, and I stepped into the lobby, expecting the usual flood of thoughts about Drake. But today… the air felt heavier. Denser. Like it had absorbed every worry and anxiety from the office floor.I should have known.Drake was already waiting by the executive entrance when I got ther
The entire morning, Drake is… different.Not quiet. Not cold.Just wrong.Like someone replaced him with a malfunctioning, anxious upgrade.His tie is crooked—he never lets that happen.His coffee sits untouched.His eyes keep darting to his phone, like it’s a countdown to a bomb.By 9:45 A.M., I c
The moment Sabrina walks out, the room feels colder.Too quiet.Too empty.My phone buzzes again on the table—fourth time. Same number. London.Emma doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.I pinch the bridge of my nose and press accept.“Drake.” Her voice slides through the speaker like a poiso
I arrived at the office earlier than usual that morning, the sky still tinged with pink and gold, the city barely awake. But today wasn’t about deadlines or meetings. Today was… his day.Drake’s birthday.I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. I’d known him long enough to know he didn’t need gifts, didn’







