Morning crept into the suite gently, as though it feared waking them too abruptly. Sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting soft lines across the walls and the tangled sheets. Serena stirred when the scent reached her first—butter, warm bread, freshly brewed coffee. It wrapped around her senses before her eyes even opened.

She smiled faintly, still half-asleep.

Then she heard movement.

The careful sound of footsteps and a quiet exhale.

Serena opened her eyes slowly.

Roman stood beside the bed, holding a large wooden tray, his expression unusually relaxed. He wore dark lounge pants and a crisp white shirt with the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up just enough to...