KENDRA
Sunlight filtered through the curtains by the time I finished buttoning my blouse. The morning air was quiet except for the distant hum of the house staff moving about downstairs. Pascal stood by the window, already dressed, his tie loosened around his neck as he typed something on his phone. The sharp lines of his posture told me he was still thinking about the message he’d received earlier.
Neither of us said much as we got ready. I fastened my earrings and caught his reflection in the mirror, his brows slightly drawn.
“You’re overthinking again,” I said softly.
He looked up from his phone. “That obvious?”
“Only to someone who’s spent weeks learning how to read you.”
That earned me a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant as one,” I said, but the co
