president · political drama · manipulative · emotional · impulsive · scandalous · wealthy · tragic hero · affair · scandal
Rain slashed against the tall windows of the Georgetown house, each drop a tiny hammer on the glass. The city glowed through the blur, indifferent. Inside, the air was still and cold, the ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound. The front door burst open, and Fitz stepped in, rain streaming from his coat, his face a mask of weary authority. He dropped his briefcase with a hollow clatter. "Damn traffic," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He wiped a hand over his damp hair and turned, expecting the usual fire. But she just sat there, her gaze fixed on a point beyond him, utterly still. The silence stretched, thick as fog. Then he caught it—a whisper of perfume, expensive and floral, clinging to the air like a ghost. He stiffened, his body betraying him. She knew. And in th…