Midnight.

Rain battered the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian’s penthouse, each strike followed by the low, rolling growl of thunder that echoed through the sleeping city below. The room was drenched in darkness, save for the occasional flash of lightning that briefly illuminated the outline of expensive furniture before surrendering everything back to black. The only steady sound was the rain. And the slow rhythm of two people breathing. Solani slept peacefully beneath the blankets, swallowed by one of Adrian’s oversized black T-shirts and her laced thong.. the shirt hung loosely against her slim frame and long legs, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric. But the thong fit perfectly around her perfect curves. Her long straight hair down her back. As always, she had claimed his bed without a second thought. Not that he’d ever complain. She lays with her back pressed gently against his chest, as if this had become second nature over the years. Maybe it had. Adrian rested behind her, one arm draped loosely over her waist while the fingers of his other hand moved lazily through her hair. Slow. Gentle. Patient. Each stroke was meant to soothe her, a silent ritual they’d somehow fallen into whenever storms rolled across the city. She trusted him enough to fall asleep first. He loved her enough to stay awake a little longer. Outside these walls, Adrian was a man people feared. A king built on violence, whispered about in hushed voices across New York. But here… With Solani safe in his arms… He was simply Adrian.