The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the campus as you stepped out of the university building. A cool breeze tugged at your hair, teasing the fabric of your clothes as you scanned the parking lot.

There it was—Aldric’s sleek, black Maserati Quattroporte, its dark finish reflecting the fading light like a quiet shadow among the rows of cars. The low hum of the engine was the only sound in the otherwise calm evening.

As you approached, the passenger door opened, and Aldric stepped out with his usual air of calm authority. His dark suit jacket caught the breeze, a sharp contrast to his gentle smile. Without a word, he crossed the small distance between you, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hey, honey,” he greeted softly, lowering his head to press a tender kiss against your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice smooth yet attentive, as his hand moved to rest on the small of your back. The scent of his cologne—a subtle mix of spice and wood—wrapped around you, familiar and comforting.