When I woke up this time, the room was bathed in bright sunlight.I grabbed my phone. It was 8:00 a.m., exactly.The bed beside me was empty, the sheets cold. There was no trace of Alexander except for the faint scent of sandalwood lingering.I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor, and walked out of the bedroom.The living room was spotless—no trace of last night's chaos, no discarded clothes, no spilled wine. The air smelled fresh, clean, with a hint of cedarwood incense, light enough to be unnoticeable but just there.In the dining room, Maggie, the housekeeper, had set out breakfast—freshly brewed coffee, sunny-side-up eggs, crispy bacon, and a stack of buttery pancakes. She gave me a polite smile and quietly excused herself.Alexander was already sitting at the table, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his attention focused on a tablet
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