The sun had barely risen over the skyline when Samantha entered the penthouse. The air was cool, still, the kind of morning that carried no noise except the faint hum of the city below. Her heels clicked steadily against the marble floor as she walked in, her posture composed as always, though fatigue shadowed her eyes.
Jake was already there, sitting in the private study. The room was quiet, lined with shelves of books and files, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. A stack of folders sat before him, his sharp eyes focused on the data scrolling across his laptop screen.
When he heard her heels, he looked up. Relief washed across his face, though he quickly masked it with a smile.
"You're finally back," Jake said, closing the laptop halfway. "Do I even want to know why you never came home last night?"
