The penthouse didn’t feel like a home.It felt like a perfectly curated silence.Elara stood just inside the doorway, fingers clenched around the strap of her bag, eyes slowly taking it all in. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Marble floors so polished they reflected her uncertainty back at her. Soft golden lights that made everything look warm yet somehow untouched, unlived.This place belonged to Adrian Knight.And now, somehow… to her.“Your room is on the left,” Adrian said, already walking ahead, voice calm, detached, like he was discussing a merger. “Everything you need has been arranged.”Elara followed him, heels clicking too loudly in the quiet.