Morning came quietly.
Golden sunlight slipped through the thin gap between the hotel curtains, spilling across the room in warm, narrow beams. One of them landed directly across Elara's face.
She groaned softly and turned away from the light.
For a few seconds, she remained half-asleep, blissfully unaware of anything beyond the warmth of the sheets beneath her.
Then something felt wrong.
The mattress beneath her wasn't familiar.
Neither was the room.
Elara slowly opened her eyes.
She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, her brows knitting together.
Where was she?
She pushed herself upright, her heart beginning to beat faster as she looked around the room.
This wasn't her hotel room.
It wasn't even the room she'd gone to sleep in.
Her gaze dropped to herself.
Her elegant dress from the reunion was gone.
Instead, she was wearing an oversized T-shirt that definitely wasn't hers.
Elara's breath caught.
Slowly, she pulled the covers down. She was wearing only her underwear. Panic immediately crawled up her spine.
Then she looked beside her.
A man was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed.
He wore nothing but a pair of boxers.
Elara's eyes widened. Her entire body went rigid.
What the hell?
She scrambled out of bed so quickly that she nearly tripped over the sheets.
The movement woke the man. He groaned, rubbing his eyes before blinking up at her.
"What the—?"
He slowly sat up.
His confused gaze moved from Elara to the unfamiliar room and then back to her.
"Who are you?"
Elara opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
The man looked just as confused as she was.
"Wait..." He glanced between them. "Did we...?"
Elara stared at him.
"I don't know." Her voice trembled. "I—I don't think so."
The man frowned and rubbed his face again, clearly trying to piece together the events of the previous night.
"Neither do I."
Elara couldn't stand there anymore.
She needed her phone.
She needed her clothes.
She needed to get out.
Her eyes scanned the floor.
Clothes were scattered everywhere—his shirt, her dress, shoes, her purse, and several other things she couldn't even remember dropping.
She hurried toward them, desperately searching for her phone.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
Both of them froze.
The man looked toward the door.
"I'll—" He barely made it two steps before the door opened.
"Hey, Dylan, have you—"
The voice stopped.
Elara froze.
Her blood ran cold.
Standing in the doorway was Sarah.
Her good friend.
Sarah's eyes widened as she took in the scene.
Elara standing there in nothing but her underwear and an oversized shirt.
Dylan standing behind her in nothing but his boxers.
The scattered clothes.
The bed.
The silence.
"Elara?" Sarah stared at her. "What the hell?"
Dylan looked between them. "You know her?"
Sarah slowly turned toward him.
"Well, yeah." She pointed at Elara. "She's my friend."
There was a strange hint of disbelief in her voice, as though she couldn't quite process what she was seeing.
Dylan blinked. "Oh."
Sarah's expression changed. "And Mr. Morello's girl."
Dylan's face drained of color. "What?"
"Mr. Morello's girl."
"Morello?" His eyes widened. "As in..." He swallowed. "Nikolas Morello?"
"Yeah."
Dylan stared at Elara in horror. "Oh, shit."
Elara barely heard him.
She was too busy gathering her belongings with trembling hands.
She couldn't explain this.
She didn't even understand it herself.
All she knew was that Nikolas was going to see exactly what this looked like.
And Nikolas Morello wasn't a man who tolerated betrayal.
Elara grabbed her dress from the floor.
She had just picked up her purse when she turned toward the door.
And stopped.
Someone was standing there.
Tall.
Still.
Furious.
A pair of icy blue eyes stared directly into hers.
Elara's heart dropped.
She couldn't breathe.
She knew those eyes.
She had spent six years looking into them.
"Nik..."
Sarah turned.
Dylan turned too.
Both of them immediately fell silent.
Nikolas didn't say a word. He simply stared at Elara. His expression was unreadable.
But his eyes weren't.