My pulse jumped into my throat. Everything else was frozen. People. Movement. Even the snow outside. But that knock rang clear and real through the penthouse.
Another knock. Then another.
I backed up quietly into the kitchen. Used the island as cover. Breath shallow. Heart pounding loud enough I swore they could hear it even in this frozen moment.
The card reader beeped. The lock clicked open. The door swung inward. The fuck, they my keycard? How?
Footsteps followed. Slow. Quiet. Four distinct sets.
I risked a quick peek around the corner.
Four women.
Red skin. Deep crimson that almost glowed under the penthouse lights. Horns curved back from their foreheads. Black. Glossy. Sharp at the tips. Long tails swayed behind them. Spade-shaped ends flicked lazily. They were naked. Completely. No clothes. No modesty. Just flawless, luminous skin stretched over curves that looked impossible.
