Amara’s POV
The sun didn't slice through the curtains this morning; it drifted in, soft and golden, like a peace offering.
I stayed in bed long after I woke, staring at the ceiling of the Master Suite. For the first time since I’d entered this house, the air didn't feel heavy with the scent of unsaid threats. My wrist felt warm where the platinum watch rested—the watch Adrian had replaced with a tenderness that still made my chest ache when I thought about it.
“Stay because you want to see what happens when a Wolfe actually finds something worth keeping.”
The words were a dangerous melody, playing on a loop in my mind. I was a practical woman. I was a woman who had spent the last three years counting every penny, sewing until my eyes burned, and navigating the shark-infested waters of
