The silver moonlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite, slicing across the massive bed like a blade of pure glass. In the quiet dark, the thumping bass of the club was replaced by the heavy, synchronized rhythm of our breathing. The air between us felt thick, static, and dangerously volatile, charged with an intoxicating friction that two years of carefully built hatred could not contain.
The alcohol was a heavy, burning current pulsing through my veins, completely liquefying the boundaries of my reality until the past two years felt like nothing more than a bad dream. I looked at Mason through the silver haze. He was lying on his side, mere inches away from me, his charcoal suit jacket long gone and the top buttons of his dress shirt completely undone. The rigid, unyi
