Vanessa’s POV

Across town, Vanessa Hart slipped into her apartment, tossing her designer bag onto the couch.

The city lights poured through the window, gilding her silhouette. She peeled off her fur coat,

heels clicking against the hardwood as she poured herself a glass of champagne.

Damian hadn’t called. Again.

She sank into the sofa, swirling the champagne with a bitter twist of her lips.

“How long am I supposed to play this game?” She thought.

She remembered the first time she’d ...