Sophia's pov

The house was quiet when I stepped in, late at night, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor. I froze as I saw him sitting in the living room, a glass of red wine in hand, leaning back casually on the sofa. Doman. His presence was magnetic and unnerving at the same time. He looked up slowly, and a smirk curved his lips.

“You’re home late,” he said, his voice smooth but with that edge that always kept me alert.

“I was just hanging around,” I said softly, ...