Page 48 of Silver Sinner

Tonight, Moses is camped outside the house Madeline is sleeping over at, after I sent him a text not long after I arrived, and Layla is coming with me to my penthouse for a night to truly unwind. It takes some persuading for her not to want her kitchen entirely cleaned up by the time we leave, but soon we're weaving through the city with my driver taking the most scenic route to my penthouse. The awe plays out like a movie on Layla's face as she gazes out the window at glittering lights, vibrant billboards, and a few street shows that would be worth our time if I weren't going out of my mind with desire.

Everything about Layla captivates me, and the way she speaks doesn't give me the sense that she's being dishonest. And, part of me is selfish. Selfish enough to give myself one last night with her before Moses completes his investigation and the truth is laid bare.

We arrive at my penthouse a little after midnight, and Layla's face is a picture of awe. Her eyes are wide, her lips slightly parted, and she keeps her hands close to herself as if she's too afraid to touch anything. I'd reassure her, but I don't want to call attention to those things and make her feel exposed.

"You live here?" Layla finally asks after we've toured the vast kitchen, the lounge, and stopped in the study where towering bookshelves frame the open glass doors to the balcony.

"I do, yes."

"Maybe I'm in the wrong business. I bet I could sell property as easily as I sell those steaks."

"With Moses as your client, you'd never be out of work."

An affectionate smile crosses her face. Standing back, I watch as her eyes dart all over the room, taking in the books and the drinks cabinet, the desk and leather seats, then the gorgeous balcony.

"I feel… so out of place," she murmurs and her arms wrap around her middle. "I knew you were rich but this is…"

"Old money," I say soothingly. "Most of my wealth comes from my father."

"So you're a nepo baby in the real estate world?" She glances at me with a light smirk and I can't resist my laughter.

"That is one way of looking at it, yes."

"Damn. And yet you come to my diner. That kitchen looks big enough to house a private chef and yet you come to my place for bad coffee and worse food." She stops her pacing and turns to look at me. "Why?"

"Do you want the truth?"

The hollow of her neck deepens as she takes a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Because of you." When she doesn't respond, I walk forward. "Do you remember how we met?"

"I made you coffee?"

"No, we met before that."

Her eyes widen. "We did?"

"Mhm. I was just back from visiting my brother in the hospital and I hated the world. I felt like everything was working against me, and I was losing my grip on my sanity. And then you ran into me. Literally."

Pink flushes across Layla's cheeks. "I did?"

"Mhm. I have no idea where you were going in such a hurry, but you collided with me and then drowned me in apologies. I could barely get a word in, but you were so sweet, so apologetic. Since that day, there's been a certain kind of peace that settles over me whenever I'm with you. For a while, I was content in soaking that up along with the bad coffee until fate, it seems, has brought us even closer together."

Layla gazes up at me with wide eyes, then her lips curl into a playful smirk. "So you were stalking me?"

"Is that how you want to look at it?"

Her hip cocks and she tilts her head. "I dunno. Feels that way, don't you think?" She leans forward and lightly prods my chest. "And now you've whisked me away to your fancy apartment because you want… dessert?"

Heat curls low in my gut. "Yes."

"So what is dessert?"

"You."

"Huh?" The soft shock in her word catches me off guard and I chuckle.

"You, darling, are dessert. Was that not clear?"