Page 52 of Undercover Infidel
“You’d be surprised,” I replied. “Though I do appreciate having the proper setting when I choose to cook.”
We continued to the eastern wing, where the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the Thames. “The master suite,” I said, opening the double doors to reveal the expanse beyond.
The king-sized, platform bed faced the windows, and a sitting area with a chaise lounge created a private retreat by the window.
“The bed is positioned so you can watch the sunrise without leaving it,” I explained.
“And I bet the view is equally spectacular at any hour,” Lex commented with a suggestive glance.
She moved to the window, her silhouette outlined against the daylight. “You can see half of London from here.”
“That’s rather the point,” I said, moving to stand beside her. “From this height, you can observe everything while remaining separate from it all.” I motioned to another door. “The master bath is through here,” I continued, leading Lex into a sanctuary-like space dominated by a freestanding soaking tub positioned by a window.
“The glass can turn opaque with a word or touch,” I demonstrated, pressing a concealed panel. The window immediately frosted over, providing complete privacy.
“Though at this height, it’s hardly necessary,” Lex observed, walking to the center of the bathroom. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” she asked, turning back to me.
“I try to,” I said. “It’s both my greatest strength and my most significant flaw, according to Tag.”
We moved on to the lower level, where I showed her my private office and technical workspace. Unlike the underground ops hub at Blackmoor, this space offered stunning views while maintaining absolute privacy through the same kind of specialized glass. “Not quite as cave-like,” I said, “but the equipment is comparable. The advantage here is not having to go underground to access world-class technology.”
“And this is just your London office,” she mused, running her fingers along the edge of one of the sleek desks.
“I’ve saved the best for last,” I said, leading her to the sculptural, spiral staircase that wound upward.
She glanced toward the nearby lift. “Taking the scenic route?”
“The stairs offer a better reveal,” I explained.
We emerged into the glass-enclosed solarium that could transform from winter garden to summer entertaining space with retractable walls. The outdoor terrace surrounded a heated infinity pool that appeared to spill into the London skyline, the afternoon sun casting golden reflections across its surface.
“Con, this is…” Lex began, then seemed to run out of words as she took in the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of London spread out beneath today’s blue sky.
“I know,” I said in a hushed tone, watching her rather than anything else.
I led her toward the far end of the rooftop, where my private helipad waited, secured by advanced authentication systems. “The helipad connects directly to the penthouse via that glass walkway.”
“I suppose there are times when aerial transport is necessary,” Lex commented.
We walked back toward the pool. “The water is always heated,” I said. “Even in winter, you can swim while watching the infrequent snow fall over London.”
Lex turned to me. “Have you ever actually done that? Swam during a snowstorm?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve always meant to, but somehow, never found the right moment—or perhaps the right person to share it with.”
She smiled at that, her expression softening. “It sounds magical.”
“There are several other spaces I could show you,” I continued, gesturing back toward the main level. “A library with a hidden bar, a media room designed for comfort, a few balconies with privacy screens.”
“You’ve created quite the sanctuary up here,” she observed. “Completely separate from the world below.”
“That was the intent,” I acknowledged. “A place where I could control every variable and anticipate every need.”
As we made our way back to the main level, I was struck by how empty the space felt despite its perfect design. There were no personal photographs in the public areas, no mementos or keepsakes that spoke of a life beyond work and obligation.
“I just realized,” I said as we returned to the main living area, “this is the first time I’ve given anyone the complete tour.”
Lex looked at me. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” She turned a slow circle, taking in the space once more.
