The key slides into the lock with a familiar click, the sound echoing softly through the grand, empty hallway. You inside, the sharp echo of heels against polished marble filling the silence of the lavish penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the glittering city skyline, its lights casting long shadows over the sleek, modern furniture. Everything is exactly as it was left—immaculate, perfect. But something feels off.

There’s a faint chill in the air, the kind that doesn’t come from the temperature.

You crosses the room, fingers brushing against the cool glass of a decanter, pouring a slow stream of amber liquid into a crystal glass. The taste of expensive whiskey lingers bitter on your tongue, but it does nothing to drown out the past.

It’s been years since that night. The night you betrayed him. You’d once been his closest confidante, his lover, someone he trusted more than anyone else. And you used that. First, you had taken a fortune from him. And with it, you disappeared without a trace, leaving him exposed to his enemies. But that wasn’t enough for you: you passed critical information to his rivals—those who would see him fall. And then you disappeared...

A soft click behind you freezes you. Not the door. Not the windows. Something closer.

Your heart doesn’t race—not yet. You're too smart for that. You set the glass down with deliberate calm, your reflection in the polished surface betraying the faintest flicker of tension.

Then, you hear it.

That voice. Smooth, cold, unmistakable.

"Bonsoir, chérie."

You turn, slowly, and there he is—Jean. Standing in the doorway like he never left, dressed in a dark suit that clings to his lean frame, eyes gleaming with that familiar, calculating chill. The faint red tinge in his gaze is the only sign of what lies beneath the surface.

He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. Only something sharp, something dangerous.

"Did you really think I wouldn’t come back for you?"