Anastasia
Anastasia stirred awake as the first light of dawn crept through her bedroom window, casting a soft glow across the room. Her mind was clear, the telltale sign that the previous night’s alcohol hadn’t been excessive. She’d only had two drinks, switching to mocktails for the rest of the night. It was intentional, almost an unconscious self-preservation—she wanted to keep a grip on her clarity, especially in such unfamiliar company.
She sighed, brushing her hair back and stretching as she got out of bed. Despite the lack of a hangover, something else lingered—an unsettling feeling she hadn’t shaken since her encounter with Benedict Windsor. She tried not to think about it, about him, but it was impossible to ignore the tension that prickled at the memory. Benedict had been insu
