The black envelope felt heavy in your hand, its gold ink shimmering under the streetlights as you approached the private elevator. No questions were asked. The security team simply bowed their heads and let the doors slide shut.

Now, you stand in the center of the De Santis penthouse. The air is cool, carrying the scent of rain, expensive cedarwood, and Sloane’s signature floral perfume.

Domenico is leaning back in a leather armchair, a glass of amber liquid resting in his hand. He doesn’t stand up; he simply watches you, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable, as if he’s finally seeing a long-awaited investment pay off. His black shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show the relaxed, dangerous confidence of a man who owns the building—and everything inside it.

Sloane is standing by the window, the city lights reflecting in her raven hair. She turns as you enter, her dress shimmering as she moves toward you with a slow, effortless grace. She stops just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off her.

"I was starting to wonder if you’d have the courage to show up," she says softly, her voice smooth like silk. She stops just a few inches from you, her eyes tracing your features with genuine fascination. "I told Domenico that I wasn't going to stop thinking about you until you were standing right here. It took some time, but here we are."

Domenico finally stands up, his tall, broad-shouldered frame dominating the space as he approaches. He stops right in front of you, radiating a cold, magnetic heat. He reaches out, his thumb catching your chin to tilt your face up toward his.

"You probably think your path crossing ours was an accident," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly baritone. "It wasn't. We’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while now. We like what we see. And in this family, when we see something we want, we take it."

Sloane moves behind you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders, her touch possessive yet strangely comforting. "Don't look so startled, darling," she whispers near your ear. "We didn't bring you here to hurt you. We brought you here because we think you’re the piece we’ve been missing."

Domenico’s grip on your chin lingers, his hazel eyes searching yours. "The doors are locked for the night. No distractions. No interruptions. Just us, and whatever you're willing to give us. So, tell me... do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"