Morning light streamed through the large windows, painting golden stripes across the sheets. Amira stirred first, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks before her eyes opened. The warmth beside her remained. Idris hadn't slipped away in the early hours like a ghost. He was still here, one arm resting around her waist, chest rising and falling in rhythm with the soft breath of sleep.
She turned her head slightly, studying his face—relaxed, unguarded. Without the usual tightness in his jaw or the weight in his eyes, he looked younger. Softer. Like a boy who had never known heartbreak or betrayal.
Amira hesitated before tracing a finger gently across his chest, committing the moment to memory.
"You stare too much," he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
She smiled. "And you eavesdrop in your sleep."
Idris opened one eye, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "Hard to sleep when someone's burning holes in your chest with their eyes."
"Maybe I was just checking if you were real," she teased.
"Disappointed?"
She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "No. Just… surprised. I'm not used to waking up like this."
He brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Get used to it."
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in a cocoon of morning warmth and quiet understanding. But reality, as always, waited just beyond the bedroom door.
By the time they were dressed and sitting at the breakfast bar, Amira felt the shift in Idris's mood. He was focused again, the mask of the CEO settling back into place. But his hand still reached for hers beneath the table, and that quiet act said more than words.
"I have a meeting this afternoon," he said. "Board members. They're sniffing around again."
She tilted her head. "About?"
He hesitated. "The company. Us. Everything."
"Us?"
"They know I've changed. They're just trying to figure out why. And if it's a weakness they can use."
Amira frowned. "I'm not a weakness."
He met her gaze. "No. But you're the only thing they can't calculate. And that makes them nervous."
Amira exhaled. "Do you want me to stay away from your office?"
"No. I want you to be exactly where you are. But it's time you knew—there are people who don't want me happy. Especially not with someone they can't control."
She swallowed. "Like your mother?"
Idris's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "And someone else."
She didn't press. Not yet.
Later that day, Amira stepped into Leventis Corp for the first time since their confrontation with his mother. The receptionists were polite but curious. Whispers followed her as she walked to Idris's private floor, her heels echoing against the polished marble.
When the elevator doors opened, Zayn was the first to greet her.
"You're here," he said, sounding both surprised and amused.
"I live dangerously," she replied, flashing a smile.
Zayn chuckled, but his eyes were serious. "Just… be careful, okay?"
She raised a brow. "Why? What's going on?"
But before he could answer, Idris's office door opened, and a tall, poised woman stepped out. Her face was sharp, her features sculpted with elegance, and her expression was unreadable.
Amira felt her stomach drop. She knew that face.
Not from photos.
From headlines.
From whispers.
From nightmares.
"Miss Sade," the woman greeted with a cool smile. "I've been meaning to meet you."
Amira's spine stiffened. "And you are?"
"Naima Castillo."
Amira's heart stopped.
Naima Castillo.
The name Idris never spoke aloud.
The name from the article Zayn once showed her.
The name of the woman Idris almost married—and the one who left him broken.
Idris appeared behind her, his expression hard. "You're early."
Naima didn't flinch. "I always am."
He moved to Amira's side protectively. "You've had your meeting. You can leave."
Naima's smile didn't falter. "I'm sure your… guest wouldn't mind hearing what I had to say. After all, if she's part of your life now, shouldn't she know everything?"
Amira's chest tightened. "Idris?"
He didn't look at her. "Not now."
Naima stepped forward, eyes locked on Amira. "He used to love me, you know. Before all of this. Before he became ice in a suit."
"Stop," Idris warned.
But Naima continued. "He asked me to marry him. I said no. Not because I didn't love him—but because he was becoming someone I couldn't recognize. All ambition. No heart."
Amira held her ground, even as her pulse pounded in her ears.
"I left," Naima said. "But it seems you've done what I couldn't—thaw the ice. Or at least, crack it."
"That's enough," Idris snapped.
Naima turned to him, her voice cool. "Careful, Idris. You're making choices with your heart now. And hearts are liabilities."
Then she walked away, heels clicking like punctuation marks in the silence.
The door shut.
Silence stretched.
Amira finally turned to him. "Why didn't you tell me she was back?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "Because it didn't matter."
"She clearly thinks it does."
"I don't care what she thinks."
Amira stepped back, struggling to steady her voice. "You cared enough to let her into your office."
"She's a shareholder. I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice."
He looked at her then, really looked. "And I chose you."
The silence between them was no longer peaceful. It was tense. Real.
"She thinks I'm a liability," Amira said quietly.
"She's wrong."
"But do you believe that?"
Idris reached out, cupping her face. "You are not a weakness. You're the reason I'm still fighting."
She wanted to believe him. She really did.
But the seed of doubt had been planted.
That night, she lay awake in his bed, watching the city lights flicker against the ceiling. Idris slept beside her, one arm around her waist. But her thoughts wouldn't quiet.
Naima had been here.
Not just in the office.
In his past. In his heart. In his pain.
And Amira wasn't sure if she was strong enough to stand against the ghosts that came with loving Idris Leventis.