I woke up before the sun, my body tense like it had been bracing for something all night.
The room was still dark, the heavy curtains blocking out Dubai's early glow, but my mind was wide awake...alert in a way that felt unnatural. Lucien's words from the night before echoed in my head, crisp and final.
We leave tomorrow morning.
No explanation. No discussion. Just a statement.
I turned my head slowly, half-expecting him to be watching me, but Lucien lay beside me, perfectly still. Even in sleep, he looked composed. Controlled. His breathing was even, his face smooth and unreadable, like rest was just another thing he'd mastered.
I studied him in the dim light.
Most husbands woke up messy, hair tousled, faces relaxed, vulnerable. Lucien Blackwood looked the same asleep as he did awake: dangerous in a quiet, unsettling way. As if his mind never truly shut down.
