The private elevator hummed to the penthouse summit. Floor-to-ceiling glass framed the city skyline, lights pulsing like heartbeats. Théo's mother, Elena, opened the door, her silk blouse whispering against designer…
I turn the key in the penthouse door. Silence greets me. Kitchen? Empty. Bedroom? No. Bathroom? There. My beauty. My angel. My demon. Heart thief. Ecstasy bearer. Sweet Melimel dozes…
March 6th. Nine-ten PM. Penthouse pinnacle. City lights pulse below, park stirring in twilight hush. Pierre strides in, suit crisp, power etched in his stride. Emma, our five-year-old jewel, wrapped…