Penthouse Stories Novels & Stories

We stopped in front of it. 60 stories. All windows. The kind of building that had its own ZIP code. A doorman opened my door before my hand reached it. “Mr. Sterling,” he said. His eyes dropped to Lila, to the carrier, to me. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t stare. “Good evening.” “Penthouse,” Kael said. The elevator was glass. I froze. “Ms. Mbeki?”

He always tried to protect me, but he never told me everything. We took the private elevator up without talking. When the doors opened, we stepped right into the penthouse. It smelled clean, like fresh linen and nice wood. Connor turned on the lights. The place was huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the whole city skyline. There were big leather couches, expensive-looking art on the walls, and a kitchen island that looked super fancy. It screamed rich doctor with an edge. I dropped my bag by the door and sat down on the big sectional couch. The second I did, everything from earlier hit me again. Tyler and Marcus in bed. The ring on the floor. Sending that money. My throat got tight, and t

I turned on my heel, throwing the heavy, soundproofed oak double doors of the suite open, and marched down the long concrete corridor like a localized hurricane. The main pavilion of the penthouse was vast, minimalist, and blindingly bright under the morning sky. Sixty stories up in the clouds, the entire city of Seattle was reduced to a distant, misty grid of grey lines, completely isolated from the pristine sanctuary Peter Ambrose had spent twenty-nine years scrubbing clean of emotional variance. He was exactly where I knew he would be.

“Why don’t we continue upstairs in the penthouse suite? The view is excellent, and we can speak more freely.” Everyone agreed. My legs felt weak as we all rode the elevator up. The senior partners stood close to me. I could smell their cologne and feel the heat from their bodies. Once we stepped inside the luxurious penthouse, Mr. Hart locked the doors with a loud click. The city lights twinkled through the huge windows. Someone poured drinks, and the mood changed completely. “Finally,” Mr. Hart said, handing me a glass. “Now we can relax.” The three men started circling me like predators. Their eyes moved over my body. Mr. Reynolds stepped close first and ran his hand down my arm. “You’ve b

He glances out the window as the car climbs toward the penthouse district. She asks, very well where are we going exactly I know we are going uptown but where and what are your plans? What is expected of me? She asks in all earnestness genuinely curious about the what his plans are. As the car drives through the city, Glass towers reflect neon against darkening sky. Val’s penthouse overlooks everything-a kingdom of concrete and ambition. He keeps her hand in his as he answers her questions. The Residences at Rainier Square 58th floor the penthouse. My place has a view that’ll make you forget why you were ever nervous. Plans? Ummm I suppose we start with dinner, conversation. A guest room is

Chapter 12 A Penthouse and a Prison Amara’s POV The Kane penthouse was nothing short of breathtaking. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the glittering city skyline, and the marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers. Everything screamed wealth and power, but to me, it felt like a gilded cage.

It was a new key. "The penthouse in building C is vacant," he said, his voice cool and professional. "It’s triple the rent of this dump. Better views. Better security. A much sturdier table." I looked at the key, then up at him. My heart was still hammering, my body still leaking the evidence of my surrender. "What's the catch?" I whispered. Jeffrey walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. He turned back, a ghost of a predatory smile playing on his lips.