The room pulsed with a heat that wasn't just from the broken air conditioner. The penthouse felt like a furnace, thick with anticipation and the weight of impending change. Charles stood shirtless before the floor-to-ceiling window, his silhouette carved against the sprawling cityscape below. Neon lights flickered across the hard lines of his chest and shoulders, painting him in shades of electric blue and burning amber. His hands pressed against the glass, fingertips leaving brief impressions in the condensation that formed from the contrast between the sweltering interior and the cool night beyond.
His thoughts swirled—not with doubt, never with doubt—but with the razor-sharp anticipation of a predator sensing its moment. The city stretched out beneath him like a circuit board, all those glittering points of light representing lives, desires, weaknesses he could exploit. Tonight wasn't just another night. Tonight would reshape everything he'd built, everything he'd become.
