The city looked better when it was beneath me.
I sat in my suite on the top floor of the hotel, glass walls swallowing skyline, the kind of view men clawed through blood for. Below, the lights blinked like tiny signals of surrender. They didn't know it—but they'd already lost.
The box sat on the table in front of me. White. Inside: the dress that cost enough to fund someone's rent for a year. Silk, thin as breath, the color of spilled blood. An unplanned suprise, waiting by the street. I'd just seen it and thought—she'd either love or hate this.
Which was exactly why I bought it. I touched the ribbon tied around the lid, slow. Aria would either wear it like armor or tear it in half to make a point. I didn't care which. All I wanted was her.
