The city stretched out beneath my window, glittering and endless, but even the view from the penthouse couldn't quiet my mind tonight.
I'd told myself I'd stay late at the office, bury myself in contracts and meetings, anything to keep my thoughts occupied. But now, hours later, the documents lay untouched on the desk beside me, and I was still here—shirt sleeves rolled up, whiskey glass half-empty, staring at nothing.
Discipline had always been my edge. Other men had money, others had power, but I had control. It was how I survived boardrooms full of sharks, how I'd climbed higher and faster than anyone expected. Yet now… one look from her was enough to undo it all.
Lyra.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, shutting my eyes as if that would push the thought away. It didn't. If anything, it made it worse. The memory of her on the balcony, eyes shining with something between defiance and vulnerability, replayed like a cruel echo.
She shouldn't look at me like that. Not when she was Elijah's sister. Not when Elijah had given me more loyalty than my own blood ever had.
My phone buzzed against the desk, pulling me out of my thoughts. A message.
From Elijah.
"Dinner with Lyra. Good to catch up with her. You should come with us next time."
The knot in my chest tightened. I set the phone down carefully, as though any sharper movement might betray me, even here in the silence of my own home.
The truth was, I wanted to. I wanted to sit across from her at a quiet table, to watch her laugh without the noise of a crowd, to know her in ways I had no right to. But wanting and having were not the same thing—and in my world, crossing lines always came with consequences.
I rose abruptly, pacing toward the glass wall that overlooked the city. My reflection stared back at me, sharp and cold, a man who had everything but couldn't seem to master himself.
I thought of my father then—how he'd lost everything because he never knew when to stop, because desire had always been stronger than discipline for him. I had sworn I'd never be that man. I had sworn I would build a life out of control, not chaos.
And yet, here I was, standing in the dark, undone by the thought of a woman I couldn't have.
I clenched my fists at my sides. "Enough."
But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie.