Consciousness returned not as a jarring shift, but as a slow, golden dawn. The first thing I felt was the solid, steady beat of his heart against my cheek, a rhythm that had lulled me into the deepest sleep I'd known in years. The second was the warmth of him, a solid wall of heat and safety wrapped around me. And the third was the scent—his subtle cologne, and the pure, essential scent of Kaelen—that filled my lungs like a promise.
I stirred, not to escape, but to press closer, nuzzling into the warm skin of his throat with a soft, contented sigh. A low, humming sound of pleasure vibrated in his chest, and his arms tightened around me, pulling me more firmly into his embrace. This was where I belonged. This was home.
I blinked my eyes open to a world reborn in sunlight. The desperate, shadow-haunted war room of the night before was gone, vanquished by the brilliant morning. Sunlight streamed through the windows, turning the vast city below into a landscape of glittering diamonds. Even the frantic scrawls on the glass board seemed muted, their power diminished by the simple, profound truth of our intertwined bodies.
I tilted my head back. His gaze was already on me, his stormy grey eyes clear and soft, holding a warmth that made my breath catch. The harsh lines of exhaustion were smoothed away, and in their place was a look of such open, unguarded adoration it felt like a physical touch. A genuine, effortless smile graced his lips—a sight so rare and breathtaking it felt like a secret victory.
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that seeped right into my bones.
A wide, unreserved smile spread across my own face. "Good morning." I shifted, rolling slightly to face him fully, my hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat beneath my palm. "I could get used to this."
His smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine in a gesture so tender and playful my heart flipped. "So could I," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. "In fact, I insist we do."
This time, when he kissed me, it was different from the desperate, soul-baring kisses of the night before. This was a kiss of pure, unadulterated joy. It was slow and sweet and sun-warmed, a leisurely exploration that tasted of hope and a future unburdened. It was a kiss that held no ghosts, only the brilliant, certain present. I melted into it, a happy, humming sound escaping me as I kissed him back with all the love and relief overflowing in my heart.
We were lost in it, in this perfect, golden bubble, when a sharp, intrusive knock fractured the silence.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kaelen stilled, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. But before he could speak, the door swung open.
Bella stood there, frozen in the doorway like a statue. She was impeccably dressed, a file in her hand, her face a perfect mask of poised efficiency that instantly shattered. Her eyes, wide and disbelieving, scanned the scene—the papers that we pushed down from the couch yesterday, the rumpled couch, Kaelen's relaxed posture, my body curled possessively against his, the intimate morning light bathing us in a glow that left no room for misinterpretation. The file slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor, the sound unnaturally loud in the stunned silence.
A violent tremor of rage went through her. Her face, usually a mask of sweet manipulation, contorted with a raw, ugly jealousy she couldn't hide.
This time, I didn't just sit up. I moved with a languid, unshakeable confidence that came from the very core of my being. I stretched, a slow, cat-like motion, before turning a placid gaze on our uninvited guest. A slow, triumphant smile curved my lips. Let her see. Let her see everything.
I simply sat up. I met Bella's horrified stare with a placid, almost serene expression, as if we were merely having tea and she was an uninvited, but mildly interesting, guest.
"Good morning, Bella," I said, my voice light and pleasant. I let a gentle, knowing smile touch my lips. "Is there something we can help you with?"
The word we was a weapon I didn't even need to wield; our very posture screamed it.
She looked like she'd been gutted. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She stared at Kaelen, a desperate, pleading look in her eyes, searching for the man who felt obligated to her.
He said nothing.
She looked frantically to Kaelen again, seeking some shred of the old dynamic, some hint of apology or explanation. "Kaelen, I… I just thought… these were urgent…"
"The door was closed for a reason, Miss Smith," he said, his voice like chips of ice. "You can leave those with Mark on your way out."
Dismissed. Not as a rival, not as the keeper of a life debt, but as an insignificant employee who had overstepped.
The color drained from her face, leaving her stark white with fury and humiliation. She snatched the fallen file from the floor, spun on her heel, and fled, the door clicking shut with a definitive finality.
The moment she was gone, a laugh bubbled up in my throat—a light, happy sound that felt foreign and wonderful. I looked at Kaelen, my eyes sparkling. "Well," I said, my voice dripping with playful satisfaction. "I suppose that clarifies things."
A genuine, deep laugh escaped him in return, a rich, wonderful sound I realized I'd heard too little of. He shook his head, a look of pure, unburdened amusement on his face. "I believe the term 'clarifies' is an understatement. You, my love, were terrifying."
"I had to be," I corrected him, my smile softening into something more intimate. I reached out and ran my fingers through his disheveled hair. "But now, the CEO is officially on leave."
He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips for a warm, lingering kiss. "And what are his orders?"
"A long, hot shower," I declared, my tone leaving no room for argument. "A proper breakfast. And then… absolutely nothing. The world can wait."
The last vestige of tension left his body. He looked younger, lighter, his eyes shining with a happiness that mirrored my own.
"Your wish," he said, standing and pulling me up into his arms, "is my command."
He didn't just take my hand; he wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me close as we walked toward the door. As we passed the monstrous glass board, he didn't even glance at it. His entire world, in that moment, was the woman in his arms.
And as we stepped out into the bright, new day, it didn't feel like an escape. It felt like a victory march. We had faced the darkness and found each other. And now, together, we were stepping into the light, ready for anything.