Elena’s POV
The scent of coffee drifted through the apartment before I was fully awake.
I stretched beneath the linen sheets, a strange sensation fluttering in my chest. Comfort. Warmth. The subtle ache in my thighs reminded me that last night hadn’t been a dream.
I rolled over, half expecting to find him beside me, but the bed was empty. A faint clatter from the kitchen reached my ears, followed by a low hum of a familiar baritone.
I smiled. Sliding from the bed, I tugged on one of Adrian’s button-down shirts and padded barefoot toward the sound. My cane rested by the door, but I didn’t need it. The layout of his penthouse was already familiar, imprinted into my body memory like instinct.
In the kitchen, Adrian stood shirtless, a dish towel slung over one shoulder as he flipped panca
