The smell of coffee filled the cabin rich, warm, and achingly ordinary. Isabella stood by the window, wrapped in Damian's shirt, watching the rain fade into mist across the mountains.
For once, silence didn't mean fear. It meant peace.
Damian leaned against the kitchen counter, shirtless showing his perfect curved body , with his ads like that of a chocolate bar and a mug in his hand.
He looked different here, softer somehow,no suit and no guns. Just a man, not the monster the world whispered about.
She smiled faintly. "You make coffee like you're planning a mission."
He smirked. "Precision matters, Ratios and timing. Everything's a calculation Bella."
"Even peace?"
His eyes flicked to hers. "Especially peace."
She walked over, stealing the mug from his hand before taking a sip. "It's too strong."
"You're too soft," he said immediately," he teased her.
She arched an eyebrow. "Says the man who slept with his arm around me like a shield."
