Elena’s POV

I woke earlier than usual.

The light slipping under the curtains was still soft and gray, the kind that arrives before the city fully commits to morning. For a long moment I simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the weight of the previous day settle over me in slow, deliberate layers. The Carter estate. The garden room with its pale stone floors and the drifting scent of roses.

The word *fiancée* spoken in a room full of strangers. The quiet, practical deal Mr. Nik had offered me with no threats and no guilt attached.

Three months.

Possibly six.

Pretend to be his fiancée when required. No...