The night had fallen over the city like a velvet curtain, draping the streets in darkness and mystery. Justina Ashes sat perched on the edge of the grand sofa in Carson Wills’ penthouse, a glass of deep red wine cradled in her hands. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw and the intensity in her eyes.

Carson leaned against the doorway, arms folded, observing her with a gaze that was equal parts desire and calculation. “You’ve ...