Her marriage had always been one of convenience—an arrangement rooted not in love, but in status, wealth, and appearances. Colonel Caleb was one of the most eligible bachelors: affluent, of high social standing, and impeccably untouchable.

Stoic. Nonchalant. Blunt. He carried a kind of darkness that unsettled her, a quiet intensity that made her stomach knot in ways she couldn’t explain. They weren’t husband and wife in the traditional sense. They were business partners sharing a house, exchanging words with the same professionalism they offered the rest of the world.

It wasn’t even a loveless marriage—it was a contract.

She had her own life, one she had carefully built long before their paths were bound together. An independent journalist, she specialized in human interest stories—profiles of high-profile personalities, everyday heroes, and the quiet brilliance of lives often overlooked. Her interviews dug past the polished surfaces, uncovering the raw, unfiltered truths people rarely shared.

Her reputation was built on empathy. She believed stories had power enough to change minds, open eyes, and shift perspectives. Her voice wasn’t the loudest, but it made room for others to speak. She was often on the go, traveling between cities, tucked into cafés with her laptop, or working remotely with her precious carry-on that she calls her office on wheels just because she could.

Her world had depth. Meaning. Purpose.

And yet—

Her breath caught when she saw the unmistakable silhouette of his Lamborghini Lanzador parked outside the place she was never supposed to be.

Why was he here?

How did he know?