Seven Minutes in Heaven
Twenty minutes later, I stood up when I heard his penthouse open, my hands gripping the back of the couch as he watched me, waiting.
The air was heavy, charged with something unstated, something dangerous.
I watched him walk over, loosening his tie as he stared at me, waiting for what I am about to say. Taking a deep breath, I began speaking, my voice barely above a whisper. “There’s going to be a scandal tomorrow.”
His brows furrowed, but his face remained unreadable.
I forced myself to continue. “Emma… She’s sending something to the press.”
Nothing. No reaction.
Bab Populer