ANASTASIA’S POV

I squinted my eyes as the morning light filtered through the curtains. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I tried to get myself to stand up, but my body felt heavy. My mind replayed last night in endless loops—the fight, the accusations, the look in Nolan’s eyes when he threw those words at me.

A sharp knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts.

I sat up, wondering who that could be. “What?” I responded sharply.

The door swung open, and Maria stepped inside hesitantly.

“Good morning, ma’am. Breakfast is ready,” she said in a careful voice, as if she already knew the thick...