Condensation dripped down the bathroom's fogged glass as Caleb's knuckles hovered an inch from the door. The handle turned with theatrical slowness, revealing Luna's silhouette swathed in steam - a watercolor phantom emerging from mist. Her hand extended through the vapor, droplets pearling along bare forearm veins.
"Tribute accepted," she declared, fingers beckoning.
Caleb's grip tightened on the drugstore bag, plastic whispering secrets. Through the steam curtain, he cataloged vulnerabilities: the birthmark beneath her collarbone shaped like Ceylon, water-bloomed skin glowing through dissipating mist, towel-clad hips angled in defensive grace.
She snatched the provisions, but he maintained pressure on the bag's handles. Their silent tug-of-war stretched until his chuckle broke the stalemate. The door slammed, rattling framed lithographs of dead philosophers.
Cigarette ash snowed onto the penthouse's teak flooring. Caleb watched Luna emerge transformed - cherry silk dress clinging to residual dampness, hair coiled in Medusa tendrils. The color conspired with her complexion, conjuring images of forbidden altars and arterial spray.
"Filthy habit," she noted, eyeing his cigarette.
"Yet you inhale my secondhand sins." He tapped ash into a crystal tumbler, watching her reflection approach in midnight windows.
Her fingers closed around his wounded hand, inspecting split knuckles with clinical detachment. "Violence suits you poorly."
"As does jealousy, Mrs. Thorn."
The slap of her retreating footsteps harmonized with his Zippo's click. He materialized behind her, nicotine and cedar boxing her against chilled glass. "Who answered my phone?" she demanded, breath fogging the cityscape.
His exhale curled around them like pagan incense. "Does the hound explain itself to the hare?"
Luna spun, fist connecting with his sternum. "Try sincerity for once!"
The cigarette tumbled, ember dying on Persian rugs. Caleb crowded her against the window, Manhattan's skyline piercing through cherry silk. "Director Hua delivered merger papers," he confessed, thumb brushing her racing pulse. "Shall I summon security footage? Phone logs? Or do you prefer the fantasy of rivals?"
Her knee connected with his thigh. "You're insufferable!"
"Yet here you suffer me." He captured her wrists, pressing them to the glass. Twenty-three stories below, taxis swam like radioactive tadpoles. "Tell me, little martyr - what punishment fits my imagined crimes?"
The elevator's chime fractured their stalemate. Caleb stepped back, adjusting his cuffs with elaborate nonchalance. "Stay tonight."
"To what end?"
His smile cut glass-sharp. "Shall I demonstrate?"
The pillow's feathers snowed around them as he exited. Luna stared at the aftermath - broken cigarette ground into wool, his abandoned lighter glinting on the wet bar. Through the cracked bathroom door, steam whispered escape routes.
In the lobby, Caleb's driver eyed the security monitors. "Sir, the paparazzi—"
"Let them come." He lit a fresh cigarette off the dying ember. "Tell Jaden to leak the merger details. And find Director Hua's home address."
"Retaliation, sir?"
"Education." The Town Car swallowed his silhouette. "Someone should teach proper phone etiquette."
Above them, Luna's shadow moved through penthouse gloom - a cherry-colored ghost dancing with ghosts.
Caleb emerged from the ensuite trailing bergamot-scented steam, silk pajamas clinging to residual droplets on his collarbone. Jaden extended a crystal tumbler of Bordeaux with the solemnity of a squire presenting Excalibur.
"Your victory lap reeks of smugness," the hacker observed, adjusting his glasses. "Did the ice queen finally thaw?"
The wine's tannins bit Caleb's tongue. "Jealousy makes even saints fascinating."
A knock interrupted. Yan Yi hovered at the threshold like a startled heron, tablet clutched to his chest. "Sir, the Tokyo merger documents—"
"Did Director Hua answer my private line?" Caleb's question sliced through corporate formalities.
Yan Yi's throat bobbed. "Security protocols weren't breached—"
Jaden's snicker ricocheted off marble walls. "Relax, man. The boss's wifey heard a woman's voice and went full Medusa."
Understanding dawned with comical horror. Yan Yi's gaze darted between his CEO's amused smirk and the half-empty wineglass. The corporate titan who'd bankrupted three conglomerates this quarter... domestically outmaneuvered?
Another knock. Hua Rong's silhouette materialized through frosted glass - crimson sheath dress clinging to calculated curves. Yan Yi intercepted her offering - a vermeil thermos leaking ginseng-scented steam.
"Midnight nourishment," she purred, lacquered nail tracing Yan's tie. "For the CEO's... exhaustive night work."
Jaden's eyebrows skyrocketed. Caleb studied the thermos like a bomb technician. "Accept it. Then have security escort Director Hua to her limousine."
As the door sealed, Jaden whistled. "Playing with napalm, brother. That one's got divorce settlement written all over her."
Caleb's phone vibrated. Luna's caller ID flashed - a pixelated lotus blossom. He answered on the third ring, voice dipping octaves. "Miss me already?"
Static crackled. Somewhere in the background, temple bells clanged. Eleanor's pilgrimage ritual.
"Grandmother's staying at Longhua Monastery," Luna's voice held forced neutrality. "Wants you home before the new moon."
A chair scraped. Hua Rong's laughter trilled through the door crack. "CEO, the Clause 7 amendment—"
Luna's breath hitched. Caleb leaned back, watching city lights through floor-to-ceiling windows. "Having trouble parsing contracts, Mrs. Thorn? I could demonstrate—"
The line died mid-snarl.
Xiaodie's engagement announcement arrived via ivory vellum - Champagne Villa, 8PM. Witness my triumph. Luna crumpled the invitation, watching inkblots spread like bloodstains.
Eleanor's jade bangles clinked as she pressed a sandalwood prayer bead into Luna's palm. "The bodhisattva favors persistent hearts. Make him chase you through seven lifetimes if needed."
The limousine door closed on ancestral wisdom. Luna's thumb traced the bead's carved lotus petals. At her feet, a dossier bulged with photographs - Xiaodie's secret meth purchases, Su Xi's offshore gambling debts, the brothel receipts Hua Rong thought she'd incinerated.
Champagne Villa's chandeliers dripped liquid gold over the receiving line. Xiaodie's couture gown swallowed diamonds whole - a spiderweb of pearls and deception. Her crown's prongs clawed at upswept hair, drawing minute blood droplets she'd mistake for morning dew.
"Darling Luna!" Her embrace reeked of amphetamines and desperation. "How brave to come alone. Has your beast finally tired of you?"
Luna's smile mirrored the ice sculpture centerpiece - beautiful, lethal, already melting. "I brought gifts."
Across the ballroom, Su Xi choked on his champagne as her dossier thudded onto the gift table. The first photograph fluttered free - Xiaodie snorting lines off a gigolo's abs.
The quartet's waltz dissolved into discordant notes. Luna adjusted her veil, crimson silk whispering promises of ruin.
Somewhere beyond the French doors, a familiar engine growled.