Sarai and Bianca stood frozen in the dusty clearing outside the abandoned warehouse, unable to tear their eyes from the intimate scene unfolding before them. The moon loomed high and silver, spilling its glow over the sleek black cars that ringed the lot like watchful predators. The night still carried the low ghost of engines that had just gone quiet, as if the ground itself remembered their growl.
And in the middle of it all was Rafael Vexley—the man whispered about in boardrooms and headlines, the untouchable recluse with too much power and too many secrets. Only now he didn't look untouchable. He looked human.
