The morning sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of the Denovan dining hall, spilling warmth across the long mahogany table. The smell of freshly baked croissants and brewed coffee filled the air. Silverware clinked softly as maids moved around gracefully, setting the last plates before stepping back to let the family enjoy their meal.

Isabella sat quietly beside Colton, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her napkin. Everything still felt like a dream…waking up in Colton’s house, being invited to breakfast with the entire Denovan family, and now sitting among people whose names carried weight and power she had only ever read about in magazines.

Mrs. Denovan sat...