Morning light slipped gently through the curtains, brushing Thalia's face awake. For a brief second, she forgot everything—until she felt the steady warmth beside her. Vicious was still there, one arm loosely draped around her waist, careful, restrained, as though even in sleep he was respecting her rules.
She shifted slightly.
Instantly, his eyes opened.
"Good morning, Boss Lady," he murmured, voice husky but gentle.
Thalia raised an eyebrow. "Don't get used to waking up here."
He smiled lazily. "Relax. I remember the rules. Trial period. Professional boyfriend behaviour."
She tried not to smile but failed.
She slipped out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. "First rule of the trial starts now. You don't follow me around like a shadow."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, sitting up. "But for the record, I look really good being obedient."
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed.
When she returned, dressed simply in her uniform she noticed the bouquet now neatly arranged in a vase on the table. She paused.
"You kept them," she said quietly.
"I meant what I said last night," Vicious replied. "I'm trying."
That word—trying—did something to her chest.
Downstairs, the house felt different. The guards noticed it. The staff noticed it. Vicious walked beside Thalia, not ahead of her, not commanding just present. When someone spoke to her, he didn't interrupt. When she lifted something heavy, he didn't scold—he silently took it from her hands.
Lily watched from the corner, lips curving into a knowing smile.
Later, in the living room, Mario and Martinez exchanged glances as Vicious poured Thalia a glass of juice before himself.
Mario leaned in. "Is… is the world ending?"
Vicious didn't look at him. "Trial period."
Martinez blinked. "Ah."
Thalia hid a smile behind the glass.
Midday, Vicious left for work. At the door
"I'll be back later," he said. "And… I'll call if I get delayed."
Thalia nodded. "Thank you. Your lunch here is it" She gives him his lunch
That simple exchange felt heavier than any argument they'd ever had.
That evening, he kept his word. He called. He came home early. He didn't drink. He didn't raise his voice. When jealousy flickered in his eyes as a guard laughed at something Thalia said, he clenched his jaw—and let it go.
Later, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, close.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm watching," she replied honestly. "Seeing if this is real."
He nodded. "Fair."
Silence settled—comfortable, not tense.
Before heading to bed, Thalia paused at the stairs. "You did well today."
His lips curved slowly. "Does that earn me anything?"
She considered. Then leaned down and kissed his cheek soft, brief.
"One kiss," she said. "Weekly allowance."
Vicious exhaled like a man who'd just won a war. "Worth it."
As she walked away, he smiled to himself.
For the first time, Vicious wasn't chasing, forcing, or controlling.
He was earning her.
And Thalia, for the first time in a long while, felt hopeful.