As the beautiful golden rays of morning sliced through the skyline of the restless city, Eliana Bennett stepped out of Henry's elegant high-rise, her chest tightening with the weight of emotions she couldn't quite untangle. The world around her was already awake—horns blaring in the distance, street vendors calling out their morning greetings, the air humming with that familiar urban rhythm. A crisp breeze kissed her warm brown skin, but she hardly felt it. Her mind was elsewhere, spinning toward the pastry shop where James awaited—where the fragile thread of truth might finally untangle the mess surrounding her and Rafael Vexley.
She hadn't really slept. All night, she'd tossed and turned beneath the soft duvet in Henry's guest room, her mind a battlefield of worry, hope, and the aching pull of a love she could neither deny nor fully trust. Every shadow in the room seemed to echo Rafael's voice, every heartbeat whispering his name.
