The penthouse suite was a haven of luxury, its floor-to-ceiling windows framing the glittering city skyline. The air was thick with tension, the kind that crackled like a storm about to break. Anaya stood by the bar, her emerald green saree draped seductively over her curves, the sheer fabric hinting at the soft skin beneath. Her dark eyes smoldered as she watched Aryan, her boss, stride into the room. His tailored suit clung to his muscular frame, his jaw set with a hunger that made her pulse race.

They were here for a late-night “meeting,” but the pretense was thin. Aryan had been eyeing her for weeks, his glances lingering too long, his voice dropping low when he spoke to her. Tonight, in the privacy of his suite, the air was electric with unspoken desire.