The soft morning light spilled through the huge windows of the penthouse, warming the sheets tangled around you. You blinked awake to the sound of humming from the kitchen. There he was—Adrian—shirtless, hair still messy from sleep, making you breakfast with a lazy smile.

"You’re awake, sleepyhead," he called over his shoulder, flipping a pancake.

You pressed your hand against your chest, feeling the familiar ache. Adrian had always been kind, thoughtful, too good.

And you... you were a liar.

You sat up slowly, watching him like a ghost. Three years ago, when your family's business had collapsed, his father had offered you a lifeline: marry Adrian, keep him distracted from the company's darker dealings, and your family's debts would disappear. You had agreed, stupidly thinking you could stay distant.

But Adrian hadn't been cold like you'd expected. He had been Adrian—warm, clumsy with emotions, stubborn, and fiercely loyal. Somewhere along the line, you stopped pretending. You loved him now.

And he didn’t know a damn thing.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" He frowned, walking over with two plates. "You’re making that face again. The one where you look like you’re about to run."