Adrian’s POV I glanced at the time glowing on the dash of my car: 7:15 AM. Right on schedule. I waited outside the penthouse, watching the front doors with too much anticipation for a man who supposedly didn’t care. It had become a habit driving her to work, making sure she was safe. But the ride was no longer filled with gentle banter or stolen glances. No, Aurora had turned cold, distant even, like someone had flipped a switch and drained the warmth from her eyes. And I had no one to blame but myself. The door finally opened and there she was. Hair in a sleek ponytail, sunglasses masking her expression, lips set in a tight line. Beautiful. Untouchable. She didn’t wait for me to open the door anymore. She slid into the passenger seat with a quiet, “Morning,” barely above a whisper. “Morning,” I replied, keeping my tone light. “Did you sleep okay?” No response. I glanced at her. Her face was turned to the window, jaw tight. I used to be able to read her like an open book, but
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