The word sorry still hung in the air.It didn’t fade. It didn’t soften.It just stayed there, heavy, unfinished.Darren was still on his knees.His back straight. Too straight. Like he was holding himself together with tension alone.Johnny didn’t react right away.That was the worst part.The pause stretched long enough for people to start counting breaths without meaning to.One.Two.Three.Johnny stepped forward.Just one step.The sound of his shoe against the floor echoed louder than it should have.Darren’s eyes followed the movement without lifting his head. Another step.Johnny stopped right in front of him.Close.Close enough that Darren noticed things he shouldn’t have been noticing. Things he couldn’t even explain or understand himself.Johnny leaned down slightly.Not to help him.Not to lift him.Just enough to speak.“Look at you,” Johnny said in a quiet., low.It wasn’t for the for the room to hear, just for him.Darren’s jaw clenched. “You really surprised me.” Joh

Darius stood frozen in the middle of the room. His mouth was open at first. Then it closed. Then opened again. Nothing came out.“Johnny, I mean Sir I don’t— I don’t understand.”Johnny tilted his head.“Did I stutter.” Johnny questioned.“I am going to fuck your fiancée to the Nebula Hotel…. Johnny said. “Or you’ll walk out of this building unemployed.”The words stayed where Johnny left them.Hanging.Not echoing. Not fading. Just sitting there, ugly and heavy, like smoke that refused to clear.Darius shook his head.Santiago Silver, the now former owner of Silvercrest Holdings stepped forward half a pace.“Sir,” he said. His voice was careful. Old-school. The voice of a man who had negotiated his way out of worse situations than this. “Please. I think you should reconsider your terms.”Johnny turned his head slowly.Looked at him.“Thank you for your advice” he said politely, “but I don’t think I will”The old man’s posture, always straight, always careful, sagged just a little. Eve

Johnny stared.Of all the people who could have been standing there, this was the one his mind hadn’t prepared for.“Lydia Silver?”She smiled like she had been expecting that exact reaction. Her dress clung to her hourglass curves, the thin fabric hugging her full hips and dipping low enough to tease the swell of her ample chest with every breath.“Yes,” she said easily. “Good evening, Johnny Steele.”Her voice was calm. Not nervous. Not rushed. Like this was a normal visit. As she shifted, the dress's silky hem rode up her smooth thigh just a bit, drawing his eyes before he caught himself.Johnny stayed where he was for a second too long. His hand was still on the door handle.Lydia glanced past him. “May I?”He stepped aside without thinking.She walked in, her hips swaying with a natural rhythm that made the dress flutter against her legs.Not hurried. Not cautious. She moved like someone who was used to being let into places without asking twice. The door closed softly behind he

The bar was quieter than it had been minutes ago. Not silent. Just… subdued. Like the place itself had decided to listen. Johnny sat back on his stool, one elbow resting on the counter, fingers loosely wrapped around the glass in front of him. He hadn’t taken another sip in a while. He was watching Lydia instead. Her dress shimmered under the low lights, tracing the deep valley between her plush breasts. He was waiting for her to begin her tale. She stood on the other side of the bar, arms folded tightly across her chest, shoulders stiff. The pose squeezed her curves together, creating a tempting shadow that begged attention. She looked like someone who had rehearsed this speech a hundred times, not an audience, but to herself, and still wasn’t sure where to begin. A “All right then,” Lydia said finally. Her voice was calm, but her jaw was tight. “Here goes nothing and everything.” She exhaled through her nose and leaned back against the bar, eyes drifting somewhere past

Lydia thought she had misheard him.She stood there, fingers still wrapped around the stem of her wine glass, her body angled slightly toward the window, like she needed something solid to hold her in place. Johnny’s words echoed in her head, slow and heavy, refusing to settle into anything that made sense. Her dress clung to her sweat-kissed skin from the tension, the fabric translucent in spots, outlining her stiff nipples and the dip of her navel.CEO.Fifty percent.Of Silvercrest Holdings.She laughed softly, once, more out of reflex than amusement. “That’s not funny,” she said, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.” A strand of hair stuck to her flushed neck, and she brushed it away, her fingers trembling just a bit.Johnny didn’t smile.That was the first thing that made her heart skip.He was leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, expression calm in that unsettling way of his—as if he had already moved past the shock and was waiting for the