The sharp hiss of brewing coffee broke the early morning stillness in Julian’s penthouse. Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sleek, minimalist décor. Julian moved with a calm deliberation as he poured two steaming cups of coffee, the aroma mingling with the fresh scent of the city below.
At the dining table, Madeline was engrossed in her laptop, the light from the screen reflecting off her thoughtful expression. She looked up as he approached, and a smile curved her lips—warm, genuine, and disarming.
“Coffee delivery,” Julian said, setting a cup in front of her.
“Your barista skills are improving,” she teased, lifting the cup to her lips.
Julian smirked. “Don’t push it. I’ve already accepted I’ll never master toast.”
Madeline laughed, a sound that
