Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, pale and cautious, as if unsure whether it was welcome.
Lina woke before the alarm.
For a moment, she forgot where she was—until the unfamiliar ceiling and the faint scent of expensive cologne reminded her.
The Blackwood house.
She sat up slowly, listening. The mansion was quiet, but not empty. It had a way of making silence feel watched.
Downstairs, the sound of footsteps approached.
"You're up early," his voice said from the doorway.
Lina turned. He was already dressed, crisp and composed, as if sleep had never touched him.
"I couldn't sleep," she answered honestly.
He nodded once. "Breakfast is at seven. And one more thing."
She waited.
"There are rules," he said calmly. "Living together works only if we follow them."
Lina met his gaze, her expression steady. "Then I suggest we both don't break them."
For the first time, something like amusement flickered in his eyes.