The following morning arrived in a haze of pale daylight seeping through the heavy curtains of the luxury hotel suite.
Issac Monroe slowly drifted back to consciousness, the dull weight of fatigue still hanging on his limbs. When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was an opulent chandelier reflecting on polished marble floors—an unmistakable reminder that this was no ordinary room.
And then everything came rushing back.
He jolted upright, lifting the blanket with a sudden, jarring motion. The sheets were in complete disarray, bearing the unmistakable aftermath of a night that had spiraled far beyond his expectations. Lying against his arm, resting quietly with a softness that contrasted sharply with the chaos around them, was Natalie Pierce.
Her long lashes cast a faint
