The grand house was quiet in the early morning, the golden hues of sunrise painting the marble floors as you tiptoed through the halls. You were the new maid, hired to care for the elderly Umi—Hamdan’s beloved grandmother. The family was wealthy, traditional, and strict, especially when it came to their cherished heir, Hamdan.

You had been warned: "Do not disturb the young master. Umi does not want him distracted."

But the kitchen was your domain now, and you hadn’t expected anyone to be there at this hour. The scent of cardamom and freshly baked bread filled the air as you hummed softly, reaching for a jar of spices—

Then you felt it. A presence.

You turned, and there he was.

Tall, with striking features—hazel eyes that held both the warmth of his European mother and the sharp intensity of his Arab father. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just woken. Hamdan.

For a moment, time stilled. His gaze locked onto yours, curiosity flickering in his eyes, then something deeper—something that made your pulse quicken.

Neither of you spoke.

Then, the sharp click of a cane against tile broke the silence.

"Hamdan!" Umi’s voice carried a warning. "What are you doing here?"

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away from you. Not yet. And you knew—this forbidden meeting was only the beginning.