The next morning, I woke up with a small smile I didn't know I had. Maybe it was the leftover warmth from the café last night. Maybe it was Daniel's messy grin. Or the way the air had felt alive and light, nothing like the silent walls of the Knight mansion.
But the moment I stepped inside the mansion, that smile died like it had never existed.
Nicholas was already downstairs.
He stood near the marble counter, tie half-done, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp and cold as winter. He looked like someone who'd been awake for hours already, probably planning his entire day in perfect little blocks.
His gaze snapped to me the second the front door clicked shut.
"You're late," he said without emotion.
I checked my watch. "It's 8:01."
"Which is late," he stated simply, as if the whole world followed his private clock.
I inhaled, swallowed my annoyance, and nodded. "It won't happen again."
