AURELIA POV“Thank you,” I say quietly as I step out of Zane’s car, my fingers lingering on the door for just a moment longer than necessary. He nods once, his expression calm and measured, and then says, “Good night, Aurelia,” in that same cool, composed tone he always carries. There’s a strange irony in the way things feel now compared to our first not so pleasant encounter. Back then, I had been certain I couldn’t stand him, certain I disliked him. And yet, here we were, driving home from dinner together, our conversation light but steady, and the tension between us somehow… different.I walk toward the foyer, and Greta greets me warmly as usual. “Welcome back, Miss Aurelia,” she says, her smile bright and comforting. “I put the dinner I made in the microwave. You can just heat it up when you’re ready to eat.” Her voice carries that soft, habitual care that always makes the house feel like a home.“Oh, I already had dinner, but I’ll have it tomorrow,” I respond, wanting to reassure
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