DRYSTAN'S POV
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Striding into my penthouse, my fingers undo the tie and it soft silk material loops through my collar, the soft friction at the back of my neck is like her hands touching my skin. Iliana's soft skin is so smooth, yet her touch her electrifying. God, I miss her.
The elevator door shuts behind me as I head over toward the L-shaped couch, shrugging my blazer off, and drape it over the backrest, emptying my pockets on the table beside and sit down. I’ve been sitting the entire day, and even though my ass stings, the comfort of the leather and softness of the cushions are a relaxing mix.
“Mr. Evans, shall I pour you a drink?” Megan, my housekeeper asks, her voice soft and after the extremely long day, also annoying. My chin rests on my knuckles, my elbow propped up onto the
