Clara’s POV –

The night had softened into something tender, almost dangerous. His body was warm against mine, and for once, I let myself believe that maybe just maybe he wasn’t the man the world called ruthless, unreachable, untouchable.

We were tangled together on the silk sheets, my head against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath a rhythm I had grown to crave. For weeks, I had been holding back, choking down words every time they threatened to rise. But the silence ...