**Megan’s POV**

“You’re up early,” I said, my voice quiet, stepping into the kitchen, the marble floor cold under my bare feet, the morning light filtering through the mansion’s tall windows.

Alexander stood at the stove, his dark shirt sleeves rolled up, his tatted arm moving as he flipped something in a pan, the smell of eggs and bacon filling the air. His presence threw me off after last night’s breakdown, his arms around me, no dominance, just silence.

“Couldn’t ...