Chapter 5

A Sleepless Night.

—---

Adrian lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his arms behind his head. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic sound of her breathing beside him. He hadn't expected to have her in his bed not like this. Not curled up a few inches away, fast asleep, with no idea of the effect she had on him.

He turned slightly, just enough to watch her. The sheet had slipped down to her waist. Her shirt, one of his, hung loosely around her small frame. One bare leg was tangled in the sheets, the other brushing softly against his thigh.

She shifted in her sleep, mumbling something incoherently

She had shifted in her sleep, moving closer by the hour. At first, he thought it was a coincidence, the kind of unconscious adjustment people made in their sleep. But then her leg brushed against his, and soon, without warning, she nestled her head on his shoulder like she belonged there. Her warmth seeped into his skin. He told himself to ignore it, to remain still.

She shifted again, murmuring something soft he couldn't quite hear, and one delicate hand slipped across his chest. Then lower. Her palm landed directly over his groin.

Adrian tensed.

Her fingers didn't move, didn't wander. They just rested there. Innocently. Obliviously.

But his body was no longer calm. No longer under control.

Then came the final straw.

A pulse began to throb at his temple. His muscles strained, and the heat that shot through his veins made sleep impossible. He clenched his jaw, his breaths slow, controlled. She was asleep. Entirely unaware. And yet, she had unknowingly set every nerve in his body on fire.

His heart beat harder, his throat dry. The scent of her shampoo. The curve of her hip against his side. The soft rise and fall of her chest. All of it blended into a dangerous mix of desire and frustration.

He couldn't move her hand without waking her.

So he didn't.

Instead, he lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to think of anything else. Business. Numbers. The Milan deal. Board meetings. Julian's sarcastic remarks. Nothing worked.

He didn't sleep a wink.

——

Elera's POV

The morning light filtered gently through the blinds, bathing the room in a soft gold hue. Elera stirred, the sheets warm around her, her body tangled in soft comfort.

Something was different.

Her head was resting against something firm. And her arm was around something warm. Solid.

And a warm hand was wrapped lightly around her waist.

Something breathing.

Her eyes flew open.

She opened her eyes.

Adrian.

He was asleep. His face relaxed, peaceful in a way she hadn't seen before. His long lashes lay against his cheekbones, his dark hair a little tousled. His mouth—usually pressed into a line—was slightly parted.

He looked… breathtaking.

She didn't move.

She couldn't. Her eyes traced the lines of his jaw, the shadow of stubble along his chin, the way his fingers curved gently against her side as if even in sleep he didn't want to let her go.

She swallowed, heart thudding far too fast.

Why did he have to look like this? Why did she suddenly want to reach up and brush a strand of hair from his forehead? Why did this feel like the calm before a storm?

She studied him in silence, her heart pounding in her chest like a warning bell. What was she doing? Why did it feel like they were something more than strangers forced to share a name?

And why couldn't she look away from him?

As if feeling her gaze.His eyelids fluttered and their eyes met.

Their eyes locked.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, thick and buzzing. Her hand was still on his chest. His hand was still around her waist.

"Good morning," he said, voice deep with sleep.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She gave a little nod, cheeks flaming.

He didn't move away. Didn't pull his hand back. Just looked at her like he was trying to understand something he couldn't name.

Her breath hitched closer.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then he shifted slightly, his hand tightening around her waist.

The world slowed.

She couldn't breathe. His eyes were on hers—dark green, piercing, unreadable. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

He leaned in.

Not much. Just enough to blur the space between them.

She didn't move.

And then his hand moved up, cupping her cheek.

The kiss, when it came, was gentle. Testing. His lips brushed hers like he was asking for permission.

And she…

She didn't pull away.

Her heart exploded in her chest. Her hand moved to his shirt, clinging just a little as he deepened the kiss by a breath.

And then he pulled back.

Just enough.

His eyes searched hers. "Too fast?"

She nodded.

Eyes wide.

His lips curved slightly. "Then we slow down."

He rolled out of bed, tossing her one last look over his shoulder. "Come have breakfast. I'll wait."

And then he was gone.

Leaving her lips tingling, her heart pounding, and her world completely rearranged.

---

She stared at the door long after he left. A quiet sound escaped her.half a groan, half a muffled scream. She grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it.

Not from regret.

But from sheer embarrassment.

What the hell just happened?

She had kissed Adrian Wolfe.

Correction: He had kissed her.

And she had let him.

She kicked her feet under the covers like a teenager, then flopped back on the bed, hands covering her flushed face. That had just happened. She had kissed Adrian Wolfe. No—he had kissed her. And she didn't hate it.

God, she needed air.

"Pull yourself together"Elera.

She pulled herself together with a soft groan, forced her limbs off the bed, and padded toward the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Elera stood in front of the mirror, water droplets still clinging to her skin. She rubbed a towel through her hair and whispered to her reflection, "You're fine. It's not a big deal. Just breakfast. With your husband. Who kissed you."

The butterflies in her stomach didn't agree.

She got dressed quickly, opting for soft sundress yellow gown. She left her hair down.it fell in waves around her shoulders and stepped out into the hallway with as much confidence as she could gather.

"God," she whispered.

He was already there.

Adrian.

Clean-shaven, wearing a navy-blue button-down and black slacks. His hair still damp from a shower, slightly tousled. He looked like a dream too dangerous to chase.

He looked up when she entered.

And just like that, she forgot how to breathe again.

"Morning," he said smoothly, his voice back to its cool, composed rhythm.

She tried not to flush.

Failed.

"Good morning," she managed, her voice squeaky despite her best effort,eyes darting everywhere from him.

He gestured to the seat across from him.

Sit.

She did.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made everything."

And he had. Toast, eggs, grilled tomatoes, pancakes,coffee,even a small bowl of berries. She blinked, overwhelmed.

Then started chewing, even though she had no appetite.

She focused on her plate, chewing slowly, not trusting herself to speak.

"You slept well?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

She choked a little. Then nodded.

"Good."

They ate in silence for a while.

Then he spoke again. "I was thinking..." Adrian said as he cut into his toast, "Maybe we should go out today."

"What about work"She asked.

"Don't worry about that ,that has been taken cared of".He said.

He then,as if reading her mind, he added, "You've been cooped up since you got here.Don't you want to leave the house?

She shrugged. "I didn't think I was allowed."

His lips twitched. "You're allowed, Elera. You're not a prisoner."

She nodded, her chest tightening at the sound of her name from his mouth.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"So we'll go shopping".He said.

Elera blinked "Shopping"?

"Shopping," he said. "New clothes. You didn't bring much, and you're my wife now."

She blinked again. "So?"

"So people will talk," he said casually. "I don't want anyone thinking I can't take care of my wife properly."

Her chest tightened.

"I can take care of myself," she said gently.

"I know," he replied. "But you don't have to. Not alone."

The words sat between them for a moment, weighty and real.

"Besides," he added, "we could do something normal. Like couples do."

"Is this you trying to be romantic?" she asked, a small smile on her lips.

He smirked. "No. This is me trying to be tolerable."

She laughed. "Well, you're halfway there."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes on her face. "We'll go after breakfast."

She nodded slowly. The thought of going out—with him, publicly—felt like a step. A scary one. But part of her wanted to take it.

It was just that morning he had missed her and it was that same morning they were going shopping.

Maybe she wasn't just surviving anymore.

Maybe something was… shifting.