Morning light filtered through the hotel curtains, spilling across the polished marble floors and glinting off the glass walls of the suite. Bella stirred in her sleep, tangled in the crisp white sheets, her body still humming with the memory of last night’s encounter. Her heartbeat fluttered as a faint memory of Damien’s dark, possessive gaze surfaced, making her cheeks flush even in the quiet solitude of her room.
She had barely touched the breakfast tray Damien had insisted on sending up when she’d stormed off after their night together. The combination of guilt, confusion, and something dangerously addictive that she refused to name churned in her chest. Bella knew she had to regain some sense of control, or at least convince herself she could.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Damien
