Nara POV
Dinner was over. Thank the heavens because if I stayed another minute in that warzone of a dining room, I swear I was going to fling a fork at someone’s head. We walked back to the room in this awkward, heavy silence — you know, the type that feels like it’s got weight, like the air itself was thick with unspoken insults.
Nick flopped onto the bed like a log while I made a beeline for the bathroom. I needed a long, scalding bath to wash off the stench of drama and fake smiles.
Twenty minutes later, I was clean, fresh, and mentally prepared to sleep far, far away from Nick’s nonsense. Or so I thought.
I stepped out of the bathroom wearing my softest nightwear — don’t ask me why I picked the pink silk one. Maybe I wanted to look cute in case anyone came barging in to kidnap me
