The early mountain sun broke over the trees with sharp clarity—no haze, no softness—just crisp beams of light cutting through the glass of the cabin like truth. Jack stood at the sink in his kitchen, steaming mug of black coffee…

The private jet touched down just before sunrise. Tyrone Dominian stepped off the aircraft like a returning king. Tailored charcoal coat draped over one arm, sunglasses on despite the early hour, and the faint scent of leather, sex, and dominance…

The light through the cabin windows was golden and soft, filtering through the trees and spilling across the floorboards in wide slats. The fire from last night had burned down to glowing embers, but the air still carried the thick…

Charlene didn’t leave that night. Not after the table. Not after the second round on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, when Jack had bent her over with her heels still on, his hands gripping her hips like…

The night air rolled in thick with heat, the kind that clung to the skin and refused to leave. Inside the villa, the lights were low. Candles flickered in alcoves, their glow reflecting off marble and gold accents. The space…