The master suite of the Tribeca penthouse was dark save for the warm glow of the stone fireplace and the distant, twinkling sea of Manhattan city lights beyond the panoramic windows. Elena stood on the sheepskin rug before the hearth, having stepped out of her Givenchy gown. She wore only an ivory silk chemise that fell to mid-thigh, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. In her hands, she…
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