Zara Fox's POV
The idea of traveling with Alina and Julian unsettled me from the very first moment. Not as a longing, but as a warning my body chose to ignore.
It will be a family trip, I repeated to myself as I closed my suitcase. Not a honeymoon. I thought about the three clear elements: a little girl I love, a contract in place, and a man I must learn to see without lust.
Maternal responsibility would be my shield. My salvation. Or so I wanted to believe. But when I started packing Julian's clothes—following the script of the perfect wife—something inside me broke. Because if it was all an act, why were my fingers trembling as I folded his shirts? Why was I secretly bringing the fabric close to my face, inhaling his scent, feeling him as my own?
My fingers tremble now, barely
