David had cleared the condo for the night—no group planning, no spreadsheets, no empire metrics on the big screen. Just the low lamp in the bedroom casting a warm golden pool across the king bed, fresh sheets, and the balcony doors cracked to let in the faint city breeze. The empire could wait a few hours. Tonight was for Victoria.
She arrived at 8:02 p.m.—emerald silk slip dress that clung to every curve, the fabric so thin her dark nipples were already visible through it, no bra, no panties as instructed. Her long dark hair fell in loose waves, lips freshly glossed, eyes dark with that mix of hunger and quiet surrender that had only deepened since her first night.
The moment the door closed she walked straight to him, pressing her body against his without a word. "Caleb is still in meetings," she whispered, voice already husky. "He thinks I'm at a charity planning session. He barely looked at me when he left. All I could think about was you."
