I watch Chloe's trembling hand reach for the champagne service, her tear-stained face reflecting the city lights streaming through my penthouse windows. The desperation in her voice when she asked for that drink tells me everything I need to know about her current state of mind.
"Of course," I say, my tone deliberately casual as I pour the Dom Pérignon into a crystal flute. The bubbles rise like tiny diamonds, catching the light.
She accepts the glass with both hands, as if afraid she might drop it. Her fingers are shaking slightly.
"Thank you," she whispers, taking a small sip. Her eyes close briefly, savoring the taste of luxury she'd almost forgotten.
Mia clears her throat from the sofa. "Noah, your penthouse is absolutely stunning. The view alone must be worth millions."
"It has its charm," I reply, settling into the leather armchair across from them. "Though I find myself preferring some of my other properties lately."
