The office is empty.

Most lights are off, casting the fifteenth floor in a dusky, silver glow. Rain taps softly against the massive glass windows, the storm outside just beginning to stir. I should’ve gone home an hour ago. But I wanted to impress him. Needed to.

Or maybe I just wanted to see if he’d stay too.

Of course he did.

Damon Hart is still here, seated at his desk like he owns the d*mn night. His tie is loose, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up—his usual armor ...