Dominic stopped at the threshold.
He hadn't expected her to be here, in the living room this late, waiting for him. After the assassin, he still had some work to cover up, and some mobsters he had to look into.
Celeste sat curled on the white couch. Her profile was outlined against the city lights beyond the massive floor to ceiling window. She hugged one knee to herself with the other dangling down.
The skyline glittered in sharp blues and silvers, and she looked like she could have been carved right out of the view, and forever still, remain beautiful, and untouchable.
For a brief second, he just watched her. From the set of her shoulders, and the tilt of her head, he noticed she was lost in thought.
She wore just simple pajamas.
He straightened his collar, and smoothed a hand over his shirt. He immediately pulled the version of himself he knew she liked to see, and a version that wouldn't get her worried. Then he moved forward.
