The Manhattan skyline shimmered like a crown of glass and light, each tower glittering with wealth and power, yet the night felt colder than it should. The hum of the city roared outside, but within the sleek cocoon of Lucien's black Bentley, it was silence that reigned—thick, pulsing, dangerous.
For the first time, Caroline had been picked up at work by Lucien. The people who had their shops close to hers peeked through the shop's windows with wide eyes, whispering like gossiping doves as he leaned against his car in his dark tailored suit, the faint glow of the streetlights painting his sharp cheekbones in steel and shadow.
He didn't wait inside like a polite man. No, Lucien made an entrance. He always did.
