The pale, soft light of dawn slowly replaced the shadows in the master bedroom, bringing a calm serenity to the penthouse. The heavy, intoxicating heat of the midnight fire had settled into a comfortable, quiet warmth. Mich lay tangled in the high-thread-count silk sheets, her body aching in the most satisfying way possible. Every inch of her skin felt alive, still marked by the fierce, possessive grip of Zane’s hands and the lingering warmth of his lips. She turned her head slightly, finding Zane already awake, propped up on one elbow beside her. His chest was bare, his dark hair messy, and his gaze fixed entirely on her. The lethal, ruthless corporate king who had terrified the Villanueva board just days ago was gone, replaced by a man looking at his entire world with absolute devotion. "Good morning," Mich whispered, her voice still beautifully low and raspy. Zane leaned down, his lips brushing softly against her forehead before tracing down to press
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