y of lights. His desk was usually littered with reports, contracts, and the constant hum

refusing to let go. The unfinished portrait of himself had caught him off guard, but it was the o

pages illuminated by the soft glow of his desk lamp. He flip

ges of a fire escape against the evening sky-Lila had captured them all with startling precision. There was something raw, almost vulnerab

ement. He recognized the scene-one he'd passed countless times on his way to work-but he'd never seen it the way Lila had.

does," Alex murmured to himse

rs, deals, and results, Lila's ability to find bea

arried an intensity that unsettled him. It wasn't flattering or idealized. Instead, it captured something deeper

ield against the pain of his past. But this sketch-this fragment of a strange

muttered, tapping his fingers

napped him out of his thoughts.

l but reluctantly answered, hi

ssa said, her tone drip

y," Alex

g alone in that glass cas

e, already regretting picking up.

morrow," she said. "It wouldn't look good if t

ere," he sa

r." Her voice softened slightly. "You've b

is tone leaving no room

n sighed. "Suit yourse

n distracted lately, but not by the things Vanessa assumed. His min

he needed to return the sketchbook. It wasn't just about giving it back-i

his briefcase. The city was waking up outside, the hum of traffic

chedule had taken over. Meetings, emails, and phone calls consumed most of his

noon, he m

nroe works," he instruc

fficient, professio

at the Astoria gala," Alex explained. "I

ing for Alex had taught her not to ask unn

He tapped his fingers against the desk, his th

fferent from his own, yet one that fascinated him. He wanted to know m

t it, he wanted to see what els