As we pulled out onto the street, the city unfolded before us in a cacophony of lights, sounds, and movement that never seemed to sleep. Vivian pressed her forehead against the window, her breath fogging the glass as she took it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself.
I didn’t respond, but I felt the flicker of her emotions—wonder, nostalgia, and a twinge of longing. It reminded me that she didn’t belong in my world, no matter how well she was adapting.
We pulled into the gated parking garage, the sleek black sports car purring softly as it coasted to a stop in my reserved space. Security cameras tracked our every move.
Vivian pointed to one of the cameras. “I’m assuming this is your doing? Those aren’t your run-of-the-mill security cameras.”
“Enough money can buy anything in the human world, including heavier security.” This was my domain in the human world—secure, untouchable, and meticulously private. “Someone like me can’t be too careful in the city.”
Vivian nodded, glancing around the dimly lit garage, her veneer of composure barely masking her curiosity. I could feel her tension through the bond, the muted hum of her emotions like a faint background noise I’d grown attuned to.
I exited the car first, opening her door and offering my hand without a word. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it and stepping out of the car. The echo of our footsteps was the only sound as we made our way to the elevator.
The stainless steel doors reflected our forms, shadowy and distorted, as we stood side by side in the confined space. I pressed the button for the penthouse, and the elevator began its smooth ascent. Vivian didn’t speak, but I caught her watchingthe glowing numbers above the door, counting up the levels. Her apprehension was a subtle thrum intertwined with curiosity.
When the doors finally slid open with a soft chime, I stepped out first, gesturing for her to follow.
“We’re here.”
She bit her lip as she stepped into the entryway, her gaze sweeping over the space like she didn’t know where to look first. The apartment was sleek, modern, and exuded an air of quiet luxury. The floors were polished hardwood, reflecting the warm glow of strategically placed lighting. The furniture was minimalist but elegant, each piece carefully chosen for both form and function.
But the windows were the showstopper. Floor-to-ceiling glass panels framed the entirety of the living room, offering an unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline. The city stretched out before us, a sprawling sea of buildings reflecting the morning sun. The Empire State Building stood like a sentinel in the distance, its crown illuminated in soft white light, while the river below glimmered like molten silver.
Vivian walked toward the windows as if drawn by an invisible force. She dumped the backpack on the couch as she approached the glass and stopped just short of pressing her hand against it. The sunlight danced across her face, highlighting her wide eyes and slightly parted lips.
“This is insane. I’ve never been in an apartment this nice. It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
I leaned against the doorframe, my arms crossed. She was so unguarded in this moment, and it made her look radiant.
“It’s why I chose this place,” I said after a moment. “The view. It reminds me that there’s a world beyond all of… that.” I gestured vaguely, though I knew she’d understand I meant the chaos of my estate and the responsibilities I carried.
She turned to look at me. “I can see why you’d want to escape here.”
Escape. It was a luxury I didn’t often allow myself, but here, in this space, I could at least pretend for a while.
Vivian’s attention returned to the room, her curiosity reawakening as she began to explore. She trailed her fingers over the smooth surface of the dining table, examined the leather sectional, and opened a drawer in the entertainment console only to find it filled with neatly organized remote controls.
“You’re very tidy,” she remarked with a smile.
“I’m not here enough to make a mess,” I replied with a shrug.
She wandered into the kitchen next, running her hand along the cool marble countertops. Her gaze landed on the bar cart in the corner, stocked with an array of expensive liquor. She picked up a bottle of scotch, turning it over in her hands to read the label. “Of course you’d have top-shelf everything.”
I chuckled softly. “I don’t do anything halfway.”
Her smile widened slightly, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she returned the bottle to its place and moved toward the windows again. This time, she leaned against the edge of the couch, her eyes fixed on the skyline.
She moved from room to room, touching everything as if needing to confirm it was real. There was an innocence to her curiosity, a stark contrast to the world we’d both been forced to navigate.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said as I moved to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
I opened a drawer and pulled. “I don’t cook, but I know the best breakfast spot in the city.”
She laughed softly. “That sounds perfect.”
