COLEEN

The morning light poured through the tall, arched windows of the Michaels mansion, painting streaks of pale gold across the floorboards. I woke up slower than usual, cocooned in the softness of Hayden’s comforter.

For a few seconds, I almost forgot where I was until I caught the faint scent of his cologne on the pillow beside me and the distant hum of staff moving downstairs.

Hayden was already up. The faint sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, followed by the ...