Ava's POV
The house was finally quiet around 4 a.m., but sleep still felt like a lie. Marcus and Lucas had fallen into exhausted, sated silence beside me, their arms heavy and warm, their breathing slow and deep. I lay there listening to the faint tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the distant hum of the city waking up. The crimson dress from the gala was folded neatly on a chair, but the memory of every touch, every whisper, and every jealous glance refused to fade.
My phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. I didn’t check it yet. Not with their bodies curled around mine. Instead, I carefully slid out of bed, tucking the sheet up to my chin. Marcus stirred but didn’t wake. Lucas just sighed and pulled the blanket higher.
I crept out in nothing but one of Marcus’s oversize
