ALINA
Whilst I took a shower, Vincent went downstairs to instruct his chef on what to prepare for dinner. Since I had barely touched anything at Clinton’s birthday dinner, he was determined to make sure I ate properly tonight.
By the time I finished showering, he had already laid out a round-neck top for me. I slipped it on, appreciating the simple gesture more than I wanted to admit, and walked out of the bedroom with my hair still damp.
As I stepped into the living room, I found Vincent standing by the window with his phone pressed to his ear. His back was turned to me, and from the tension in his shoulders, I could tell the conversation was going well.
He seemed to sense my presence because he glanced over his shoulder and the moment his eyes landed on me, his expression softened in
