After One Night
I commanded, my voice low, and she quickly exited.
Minutes later, the door opened, and in walked a tall man in his early thirties, wearing a sophisticated coat that hugged his well-built frame. His dark hair was slicked back, a thin, notorious scar cutting through his left eyebrow, and his eyes held a roughness that told me everything I needed to know—he wasn’t a good man.
“Hi, Mr. Denver. Thank you for having me,” he said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.