**Isabella’s POV**Sunlight sliced through the half-open blinds in sharp, golden bars across the sheets. I stretched, expecting the familiar dip of Lucian’s body beside me, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth that had wrapped around me all night like a second skin.There was nothing.The pillow beside mine was cool and empty.A small, shy flutter stirred low in my belly—half memory, half nerves. Last night still lived under my skin: his hands gentle but sure, the way he’d whispered my name like a secret he’d been keeping too long, the slow roll of his hips that made every nerve sing. We hadn’t rushed. We’d savored. And now the morning felt too bright, too quiet, too real.I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the hardwood. The silk sheet slid off my shoulders and pooled at my waist. I grabbed one of his discarded button-downs from the floor and shrugged it on. The sleeves swallowed my hands; the hem skimmed the tops of my thighs. It smelled like him and I loved that.
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