I didn’t wake up until well past noon.
My head throbbed the mont I opened my eyes. A dull, steady ache. Clear punishnt for last night.
Three glasses of red wine.
That was all it took.
I let out a small laugh, half embarrassed. In my old life, three glasses of white wine wouldn’t even faze . Maybe a slight stomach ache, nothing more. A hangover like this? Never.
Looks like this body had its own rules.
As I blinked away the sleep, I realized I was in the guest bedroom. Everything was neat. Calm. Untouched.
No broken furniture. No overturned lamps.
Good. At least I hadn’t embarrassed myself while drunk.
I stretched slowly. For once, I felt rested. No alarm blaring. No tight chest. No racing thoughts.
I used to need pills just to sleep a few hours. Now, I slept straight through the night.
That alone felt unreal.
I shuffled into the bathroom and leaned closer to the mirror. As I brushed my hair aside, sothing caught my eye.
My lips were a little swollen.
I frowned.
Did I... kiss a wine bottle in my sleep?
I touched them lightly. No pain. No bruises anywhere else.
Shrugging, I brushed my teeth and stepped back into the room.
Lewis was sitting by the wide window, tablet in hand. The light frad him neatly. Calm. Focused. Like nothing ever rattled him.
As I walked closer, he looked up.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"A bit of a headache, Mr. Hale," I said with a grin. "But I didn’t say anything stupid last night, right?"
His eyes flicked to my lips for a split second. Then back to neutral.
"No," he said.
I relaxed instantly. "See? I told you I can handle my wine."
"You were... very composed," he replied.
His tone was smooth, but sothing felt hidden beneath it. Like he knew more than he was saying.
He tilted the tablet toward . "Co here. Take a look. You might find who you’re searching for."
I moved closer, leaning beside him.
In less than a day, he had compiled a full list of auto repair shops across the city. Nas. Photos. Addresses.
He didn’t just work fast.
He hunted efficiently.
I scrolled carefully. I didn’t know the man’s na, but I would never forget his eyes. If I saw them again, I’d know.
Photo after photo passed.
Nothing.
I sped up, frustration building in my chest.
"Slow down," Lewis said quietly. "Take your ti."
I nodded, even though my heart wouldn’t listen.
When I reached the last image, my shoulders sagged.
Nothing.
Lewis glanced at . "No luck?"
"Not yet."
An idea sparked.
"Mr. Hale," I said, "can you check Camilla’s records? Where she takes her car. Maintenance. Repairs. If there’s a shop she visits often, that could be our lead."
"I’ll handle it," he replied without pause.
Good.
If I couldn’t track the man, I’d track the trail he followed.
My body was found in a basent.
If that man was involved, maybe the place mattered too. What if the basent was tied to the shop itself?
Under it. Behind it. Hidden.
If I found that location, I wouldn’t just have suspicions.
I’d have proof.
And once I had that, everything would change.
Lewis must have seen how tense I was, because his voice cut gently through the silence.
"Don’t push yourself," he said. "We’ll take this one step at a ti. First, you need to eat."
I nodded. "That sounds good."
"I’ll keep digging into Camilla," he added, a faint smile softening his sharp features. "You don’t need to worry about that."
So of the tightness in my chest eased.
No one knew the truth about . About how I ca back. That ant I still had ti. I didn’t need to rush. The dinner tonight was the most important thing on our list.
"By the way," I said, turning to him, "I’m still trying to understand how things work here. What exactly is expected of at the dinner?"
He looked at like I’d asked sothing strange. "We’re bonded," he said simply. "There’s no need to be stiff. Theo has already handled the guest list, security, and everything else. He knows what he’s doing."
I exhaled. "Thank you. I appreciate it, Mr. Hale."
That earned a look.
He tilted his head slightly and motioned for to co closer.
When I leaned in, his hand lifted and brushed through my hair, slow and familiar. "I already told you," he said quietly, "don’t call that when it’s just us."
I froze. "Then... what should I call you?"
He studied for a mont, eyes steady, like he was waiting to see if I’d feel it too.
"Call what you did before. In front of others."
"Lewis?" I asked. "Are you sure?"
For a brief second, sothing unreadable passed through his gaze. Then he nodded. "Yes. And I’ll keep calling you Riley."
"Alright," I said softly. "I’ll get ready for tonight."
"Go ahead."
The rest of the day vanished into planning. Flowers. Seating. Wine. Every detail mattered. By the ti night ca, my body ached with exhaustion.
When I finally lay down, sleep took instantly.
That was... until I felt warmth.
Another body beside mine. Solid. Steady. Radiating heat. My limbs were always cold at night, no matter how warm the room was.
Without thinking, I moved closer.
In that hazy space between sleep and waking, sothing brushed my lips. Soft. Lingering.
Then my ear.
Then my neck.
The touches were slow, careful, almost reverent. My breath hitched, even though my mind insisted I was dreaming.
A voice murmured near my ear, low and familiar.
"Elena... my Elena... you ca back to ."
The na tugged at sothing deep inside .
I wanted to wake up. To ask who he was. But my body wouldn’t move. It responded on its own, lting into the warmth, fitting where it belonged.
The night passed wrapped in that presence.
When I woke, it was already late morning. A faint, clean scent lingered in the air. The incense must have burned out soti during the night.
Tonight was the dinner. I needed to be ready.
When I saw Lewis, I smiled. "Good morning."
His eyes lingered on longer than usual. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," I said, stretching. "But I think I had a strange dream."
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest. "Oh?"
"I don’t rember much," I said slowly. "Just... it felt like I was eating sothing. Maybe I went to bed hungry."
Sothing dark flickered in his eyes.
"Next ti," he said calmly, "make sure you eat enough. You should feel satisfied."
"Got it," I replied, brushing off the odd feeling.
"Try on your dress," he added. "No surprises tonight."
"Of course."
I chose a crescent-white gown. The fabric hugged perfectly, the embroidery catching the light with every step.
It would’ve been perfect
If the zipper hadn’t refused to move.
After struggling for a few minutes, I sighed. "Lewis? The zipper’s stuck. Can you help?"
He rolled in a mont later and stopped behind . "Co here."
I hesitated. The back of the dress was completely open.
"I "
Before I could finish, he pulled gently into his lap. One arm wrapped around my waist, steady and firm, holding in place.
"I told you," he said softly, "don’t be formal with ."
His fingers worked the zipper upward. His breath brushed the back of my neck, sending a shiver straight down my spine.
Then his lips grazed my ear.
And he whispered, amused, "You’re really this sensitive?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)