The private elevator rose in its usual humming silence, but when the doors slid open directly into the penthouse foyer, the atmosphere was entirely different.
The usual bright, pristine gallery lights were dimmed to a soft, warm glow, and the sprawling space was completely, utterly quiet. William had dismissed the house staff and the private chefs for the evening, leaving nothing but the faint, distant hum of the city below.
Before I could even step out of the enclosure, William was there.
My breath caught sharply in my throat.
For the past year, I had been conditioned to see him as an imposing, armor-clad titan—immaculate three-piece Tom Ford suits, rigid silk ties, and polished oxford shoes.
But tonight, the corporate king was completely unraveled.
