The Billionaire's Forgotten Night
He leaned in, peering through the small glass panel in the door — and froze.
Inside, the room had turned into something straight out of a bachelor fantasy. Male models — shirtless, sculpted, and smug — stood under the soft amber lights. One of them, muscles gleaming under the dim glow, was right in front of Annabelle. She looked up at him, eyes wide and sparkling with drunken awe.
“Oh my god, look at those arms! And the abs!” she gushed, lifting her glass. “Honestly, who even trains like that? You’re unreal. Come sit here…” She patted the empty spot beside her on the couch, laughing at herself for being a little too enthusiastic.
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