Love ?
Alara’s POV I woke up to the scent of warm croissants and jasmine tea. Sunlight trickled through the curtains, casting soft golden patterns on Ace’s silk sheets. My limbs felt heavier than usual, my head still buzzing from yesterday’s chaos. I blinked, rolling over to see him—Ace Wolfe—setting a tray on the bedside table. He was in a tailored charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled, exposing those veined forearms that always made my stomach tighten. “You’re up late,” he said softly, brushing my hair back with surprising tenderness. “You need to eat.” “You made me breakfast?” I asked, voice thick with sleep. “I ordered it. But I put it on the tray myself,” he replied with a small smirk, the kind only I got to see. I sat up slowly, taking a bite of the flaky croissant. “You’re spoiling me, Mr.
- Writer
