Allyson's POV
Standing outside Michael's penthouse, I smoothed my hands over the curve-hugging black dress one final time. The fabric whispered against my skin as I adjusted the neckline, ensuring just the right amount of temptation showed. Tonight, I wanted to leave him breathless.
The door opened before I could knock. A polished woman in her thirties, dressed in an impeccable uniform, smiled warmly at me.
"Miss Morris, welcome. I'm Harriet, Mr. Jade's house manager." Her handshake was firm and professional.
"Allyson, please," I replied, returning her smile. "Lovely to meet you."
She stepped aside gracefully. "The pleasure is mine. Please, come in."
The familiar opulence of Michael's apartment enveloped me like a silk glove. Every surface gleamed with understated luxury, the dark color palette speaking of power and control. This was a man's domain, carved from ambition and success.
