Elena walked in like she owned the air everyone else was breathing. She wore a silk gown the color of a midnight storm, the fabric clinging to every generous curve. The deep V-neckline was daring, showcasing the soft, ample swell of her chest that seemed to defy the elegant constraints of the dress. Julian felt the air leave his lungs. He had known Elena for years—they were rivals in the high-stakes world of architectural design—but tonight, the professional wall between them felt paper-thin.

The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, mirroring the frantic pulse in Julian’s chest. He adjusted his tie for the tenth time, catching his reflection in the glass. Tonight was the launch of the Sterling Gala, and as the host, everything had to be perfect. But his focus wasn’t on the guest list or the vintage champagne; it was on the woman currently stepping out of the elevator.

"Coming from you, that actually means something," Julian said, stepping closer to the railing.

Elena turned to him, the professional mask slipping just enough to reveal a genuine smile. "Don't get used to it. Tomorrow morning, I’m submitting my proposal for the waterfront project. And I intend to win."