from the bright colors Eva remembered from her childhood. She didn't feel excited or nervous. Instead, there was an e

serious mood. Business leaders in sharp suits, rich socialites covered in diamonds, and reporters with eager eyes filled the space. They whispered quietly, looking closely at Eva and Lucian. Some said it was

hiding who she really was. Lucian stood next to her, calm and serious in a black tuxedo. When their hands touched brie

ing, not for each other. When the officiant said they were husband and wife, Lucian di

charming and distant at the same time. He easily avoided questions about their fast romance. When he introduced her as "my wife, Eva," his

place was huge, simple, and shockingly luxurious. Every surface shone, every piece of art was perfe

with a king-sized bed and a balcony looking out over the city lights. But it still felt like a guest room a clear sign of t

about her day, but his questions felt like a formality, not real interest. He neither insulted her nor showed kindness. His calm distanc

ause of Ari's custody, as he said? Was it revenge, a slow punishment for a betrayal he thought she made? Or maybe... was there still somethi

eer was gone, and her family's future tied to a man who barely noticed h

ing books and puzzles. She was small and seemed to disappear in the big penthouse. At f

n Ari's quiet seriousness a wish for connection. Eva remembered a file Lucia

gredients and carefully baked warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies. The smell spread through the penthouse a s

he plate was em

with feeling, even though Ari just listened quietly, eyes wide. Eva helped with homework, patiently

up and gave a tiny, shy smile. It was quick and almost too

yes. As Eva's fingers worked through the soft hair, a calm silence grew between

Lucian softened around Ari. His voice lost its sharpness. His eyes became gentle. He listened carefully in a way he never did with Eva. Watching them together stirred someth

ust a prisoner, but also a