Chapter 74. Pleasure, Power, and the Price

A soft light glowed behind the floor-to-ceiling glass of Harper’s bedroom in Forge Tower. The city shimmered, unmoving—a witness to her new world. She stood by the window, backlit, hand grazing the smooth steel frame of the desk where the Nightmarket packet lay unopened. Tonight, she chose life beyond files, calculations—and even beyond politics.

Knox followed her in—barely a sound. He wore no mask, no posture of power; only raw presence. He paused behind her, long enough for breath to catch, and reached out. His fingertips traced the ridge of her neck.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, voice both caution and permission.

He slid his hand lower, thumb brushing over the exposed skin beneath her silk blouse. “Maybe I should.”

There was no strategy in his words. Just gravity. She turned, letting the light kiss the curve of her jaw, the line of her lips. He tilted her face up, capturing those lips with hot certainty. This wasn’t a stolen moment—it was reclai