POV: Darius
The penthouse was silent when I stepped inside, my shoes echoing faintly against the polished marble. It was late — past midnight — but I’d long stopped keeping track of time the moment I stepped into this world. Work bled into life, life bled into work.
What’s the point of even coming home? I wasn’t here to rest. I wasn’t here to sleep. This place was just… walls. Expensive, quiet walls.
I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto the couch without a second glance, and began unbuttoning my shirt as I made my way down the hall. Every movement was mechanical — shirt off, cufflinks in the tray, belt unbuckled.
My muscles ached, but my mind was still in overdrive, calculations and names and numbers spinning in endless loops. And that was just the business world. I haven't even
