Description
The topmost floor on the tallest building in New York City is a penthouse that has seen a lot in its five decades of existence. And its sharp sight continues to witness it all - the lies, deception and cold-blooded murder hiding in plain sight among the sparkling citylights, which no one else notices. It sees a young man's crazy obsession to run a company better than his father did, and it sees the wrongs he has to commit in his way. It sees a young woman's blind aspiration to be a brilliant lawyer, and it sees the way she crushes any obstacles beneath her stiletto heels. It sees the darkness hidden beneath smiles. It sees the devil in disguise. And it foresees the rise of a monster with two heads. It can envision the monster burning down everything in its path... until the flames climb up to the penthouse and blind it of its sharp sight. ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ ◾ Brielle felt confused, off-balance, haywire - he'd just had a near brush with death, and Victor was smiling? Was he concussed? Delirious? Worry quickly overtaking the daze in her mind. "Vic, are you...?" But the rest of her question was left caught in her chest, because Victor's palms suddenly loosened their grip on her elbows to run up her arms, fluttering over her shoulders and climbing up her neck to settle around her cheeks, cupping her face. Her lips were agape, eyes looking deep into his happy ones, looking for answers, when suddenly, she felt the distance between their faces getting smaller. Alarm bells went off in her head when she could feel his warm exhales over her skin - and they turned shrill when she felt herself shiver at the proximity. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him? And yet, when his lips finally completed their journey to hers - one that felt like it took too long and happened too quickly, at the same time - none of the thoughts in Brielle's head could spell the feeling of 'wrong' in any way.
empire: foreword
