Lirael's POVI flick through the television channels, trying to find something to lull my brain toward sleep. After flying back to London from Germany this morning, then having a full day of meetings, I’m struggling to switch off. I’ve also been waiting for a call, so when my phone rings, I swipe it off the side table. “Did he accept?” I ask without bothering to say hello.Nathan’s voice comes out clearly through the phone speaker. “He did,” he says, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. “If he admits his guilt and pays a forty-five million dollar fine, his prison sentence will be reduced from twenty years to eight.”“Fuck. Eight years?” We knew they wouldn’t go easy on him, not when government contracts were involved, but still . . . As much as I meant it when I told Zephyra I didn’t care what happened to Dad, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. Then again, I can’t imagine what he was thinking, getting involved in insider trading to begin with. His arrogance convinced him he

Zephyra's POVMy eyes drift open the next morning, the numbers on my bedside clock coming into focus. Five-thirty a.m. What woke me so early? I flash back to last night, remembering Lirael falling asleep behind me, and the last of the fog clears from my mind. I roll over and look for him, but apart from me, my bed is empty. Did I only dream him being here? Before disappointment can hit too hard, a noise filters through my bedroom door. I sit up, clutching my blanket to my chest.Another sound reaches me. Is Lirael still here and doing something in the kitchen? I climb out of bed and pull my short, silky robe over my naked body, tying it loosely before heading out of the room.My feet stall, and my heart does a little flutter in my chest. Lirael is standing at the counter with his back to me, wearing just his boxer briefs, while the early morning light illuminates his muscular body. Bowls, spoons, and various ingredients are spread on the surrounding countertop, and he’s peering intent

Lirael's POVI stare out of the window, watching the cars pass by in a slow, almost languid manner. Exhaustion seems to cling to me like a heavy cloak, despite the deep sleep I managed to get last night—perhaps the best rest I've had in a long while. However, jet lag cruelly roused me from slumber earlier than I'd hoped, leaving me feeling drained and sluggish.Jonathan, our chauffeur, dutifully guides the limo towards my penthouse, and for a fleeting moment, I entertain the idea of instructing him to turn back and return to Zephyra's apartment. Despite my insistence that she take the day off, having kept her up late last night and worn her out before the day had even begun, she adamantly insisted on getting ready and heading into work. She even declined my offer of a ride to the office, urging me to go home and unpack.Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes and allow the memory of our morning together to wash over me—the intensity of my desire to possess every part of her, not just

Lirael's POVThe polished wood of the bar gleams under the glitter of chandeliers, and the air is a little too heavy with the mingled scents of cologne and perfume, courtesy of New York Citys elite filling the ballroom behind me. I tap my finger on the rim of my now-empty glass. The bartender gives me a knowing look and reaches for the Macallan 25."Are you trying to break a record with this one, Lirael?" he jokes. It's a testament to how many of these events Ive been to recently that Im now friends with the bar staff. This is the fourth charity gala Ive been to in six weeks. "Just trying for a personal best." I bring the lowball glass to my lips, inhaling the warm, oaky aroma before swallowing. The whiskeys smoky burn is a welcome respite as it courses down my throat.I've completed my networking duty as chief of operations for my family's company, the Wright Group, and mingled for what feels like several monotonous hours talking up all our latest real estate developments. Now Im ta

Zephyra's POVI take in my reflection in the mirror as I dab at my red lipstick. From the moment I agreed to go with Freya until now, I've avoided really thinking about the whole concept of visiting a sex club. It was easier just to leave it as an abstract idea. Now that Ive been approved as a guest and Im preparing to step firmly outside my comfort zone, nerves are practically vibrating through me.Freya, though, is untroubled. She dances over with two glasses of white wine and passes one to me. Her expression is soft when she meets my gaze in the mirror. You look beautiful.I smile back. You do too. Her glossy dark curls and espresso-brown eyes are a vibrant contrast to my wavy brownish-blond hair and blue eyes. I eye Freya's outfit. She's wearing a plunging red halter top and skin-tight leather pants that highlight all of her curves. I arch a brow at the pants. I dont know much about sex clubs, but I assumed the easier the access, the better.She laughs. True. But I'm not plannin