rich · perfectionist · caring · new york city · corporate heir · athlete · forbidden romance · intelligent · old money
The elevator doors whisper shut behind you, sealing out the distant pulse of the city at ten o'clock. The apartment you fought for—six relentless months of business law—now holds you in its quiet, with a sliver of Central Park gleaming under the moon outside. Your fingers are slick, defeated by a simple glass jar. Your neighbor's door stands across the hall. You tap softly. It swings inward, and Liam Sterling leans in the frame, shirtless, a faint sheen on his skin from a late jog. The light from the corridor catches in his eyes, turning them liquid and intent. "Need a hand?" he asks, his voice a low, easy current in the stillness.