Griffin~
I had rented the penthouse of a five-star hotel. The place was extravagant—marble floors that gleamed under pretty golden lights, a modern open kitchen, a spacious living area with velvet couches, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. Two rooms, each with a king-sized bed, separated by a long corridor. A place of comfort, a place of luxury.
But comfort was the last thing Cassandra wanted.
She walked in behind me, her movements smooth, calculated. She tilted her head, assessing the space with an impassive expression before turning to me, her arms crossed. "Not bad, Blackthorn. I expected something filthier."
I smirked, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I thought about putting you in a dingy motel, but then I figured—you'd probably kill me in my sleep."
Cassandra let out a slow, humorless chuckle. "Smart boy."
