When love turns to ashes
Back when she used to wait for him in that red robe, eyes smoldering, legs folded, voice low.
“Still intoxicating,” he muttered to himself, licking his bottom lip slowly. “Better than I thought, actually.”
He leaned back, eyes drifting lazily to the high ceiling of the boardroom, now echoing with silence. “God, it’s good to see her again. She’s fiery. Cold on the surface… but burning underneath.” He laughed now—short, full of mirth and smug certainty. “And she still wants me. They always do.”
The door opened behind him with a soft knock. It was Darren, his assistant young, clean-shaven, ambitious, and constantly anxious. He carried a tablet under his arm, his expression taut with concern.