Lily's penthouse felt colder that morning, the glass walls reflecting a skyline as sharp as her unease. She moved through her morning routine—shower, coffee, perfectly tailored suit—yet something lingered beneath her skin, like a whisper she couldn't shake.
Ethan Vale.
She'd deleted his message last night, but the words clung to her mind, a dark promise she couldn't ignore. You'll come back to me. They always do.
Lily Summers didn't get haunted. She haunted others.
She stood before the full-length mirror, adjusting the sharp lines of her black blazer, her dark hair pulled into a sleek bun. Power. Precision. Control. That was her armor. But even as she swept on her signature red lipstick, her pulse betrayed her—faster, hotter, like her body was already preparing for a battle.
She arrived at her office downtown, the morning rush of her team swirling around her. Naomi met her with a tablet and a nervous smile.
"Morning, boss. Marcelli's PR rep called. They're pushing for a media release by Friday, and the venue still needs a final walkthrough."
"Send the contracts to my desk," Lily said, brushing past her. "And book me a driver. I'll do the walkthrough myself."
Naomi hesitated, her eyes flicking to the side. "There's, uh, one more thing."
Lily paused, her perfectly manicured hand tightening around her coffee cup. "Spit it out."
"Mr. Vale's assistant called. He wants to meet you at his club. Said it's… urgent."
Lily's jaw tightened. Of course he did. She'd barely escaped their lunch without unraveling, and now he wanted to pull her back into his orbit.
"Tell him I'm busy."
"I did. He said to tell you it's about the launch. And that you owe him a favor."
Lily's pulse spiked. She hated that. Hated how he'd managed to slip beneath her defenses so easily. But she couldn't deny the truth—she owed him for last night's flawless event. And Ethan Vale wasn't the type to forget a debt.
"Fine," she said, already regretting it. "I'll see him after the walkthrough."
Naomi's relief was visible. "I'll let him know."
Lily swept into her office, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. She took a deep breath, her eyes drifting to the skyline beyond her windows. She needed to control this. Whatever this thing with Ethan was, it couldn't distract her. She'd worked too hard, sacrificed too much to let a man with a wicked smile and dangerous eyes derail her focus.
He's just another obstacle.
She repeated it to herself, over and over, as she sank into her leather chair and pulled up the day's agenda. She would deal with Ethan Vale on her terms. And when she did, she would make sure he regretted ever thinking he could own a piece of her mind.
---
The Glass Room felt different in daylight. Less seductive, more raw. The polished marble and crystal chandeliers lost their glow under the harsh morning sun, revealing the sharp edges and empty corners hidden by the night.
Lily's heels clicked against the floor as she strode through the lounge, mentally noting every flaw, every piece of furniture that needed adjusting. She wouldn't let anything slip. Not tonight. Not ever.
"Ms. Summers."
The voice slid over her like a silk rope. She turned to find Ethan leaning against the bar, his dark suit a stark contrast to the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked different in daylight, too—harsher, his features more cutthroat, less polished.
"You're early," she said, crossing her arms. She hated how his eyes immediately flicked to the exposed skin at her collarbone, the faint pulse that betrayed her calm facade.
"I'm always early when it's worth my time," he said, pushing off the bar and closing the distance between them. "You said you don't like being touched without permission."
Her jaw tightened. "That wasn't a request. It was a warning."
He smiled, slow and predatory. "Noted."
Silence stretched between them, thick and electric. She should walk away. She knew that. But his presence was like a magnet, pulling her in even as every instinct screamed at her to resist.
"What do you want, Ethan?" she snapped, her voice sharper than intended.
"I want to show you something," he said, stepping closer, until she could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint scent of cedar and smoke teasing her senses.
"Business or pleasure?" she shot back.
His eyes darkened. "Both."
She opened her mouth to retort, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, pressing it into her hand before she could protest.
"Read it. Then meet me here tonight. Midnight."
Before she could argue, he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "And wear something that makes you feel powerful."
With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty room, leaving Lily standing there, heart racing, fingers gripping the paper like a lifeline.
When she finally unfolded it, her breath caught.
It wasn't a note. It was a photograph.
Of her.
Taken last night, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted, Ethan's shadow looming behind her like a storm.
A whisper of a thrill slid down her spine, sharp and unwelcome.
Lily Summers didn't play games.
But Ethan Vale had just forced her hand.