Felicia rubbed her nose, returned the knife to her pocket, and switched on the lights. The room brightened, and Stephan squinted, adjusting to the sudden illumination. His voice, hoarse and deep, held a seductive quality in the quiet night. "Why are you back so late?" A warmth inexplicably spread across her face.

His tone resembled a husband's longing anticipation for his wife's return, culminating in a single, heartfelt question. She didn't consider their relationship that intimate; they had shared only a few nights.

Felicia interrupted her thoughts, shaking the grocery bag. "I went to the supermarket for vegetables before they closed." Stephan raised an eyebrow, his expression subtly questioning. "Is that all you're eating?"

She nodded. Living alone, she didn't worry about elaborate meals, only sufficient sustenance. She unpacked the groceries, and noticing he hadn't left, asked, "Aren't you going back?"

"Back where?"

"To your place," she replied, referring to Seldvale. She had no family, but Stephan should be returning to celebrate the New Year with his, shouldn't he?

Before she could elaborate, his phone buzzed repeatedly. He glanced at it, typed briefly, and pocketed it.

She continued unpacking and preparing a small, festive New Year's stew; the cold weather called for it. As she rubbed her hands and rolled up her sleeves, the doorbell rang. She assumed it was Carmen, her neighbor.

But instead of Carmen, two of Stephan's subordinates stood there, each carrying large bags of ingredients; one also held a bouquet of bright red roses. Felicia froze.

They bowed respectfully. "Ms. Fuller, this is from Mr. Russell. May we come in?"

She stepped aside, allowing them entry. After delivering the items, they thoughtfully closed the door behind them.

Her gaze fell on the roses. She didn't know the variety, but their vibrant beauty was striking.

Stephan, noticing her attention, approached the flowers. He delicately picked one, bringing it to his nose with long fingers. His apparent admiration, coupled with his nonchalant posture, exuded elegance and charm.

She rolled her eyes inwardly, muttering, "Why aren't you leaving...?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw him take two steps, standing directly before her. A shadow fell, blocking the overhead light, and his handsome face filled her vision. His gaze was deep, his smile, spurious.

"Do you want me to leave that badly?" His voice was huskier, his dark eyes reflecting clarity and desire.

Pinned to the door, unable to move, she felt the heat of his gaze. He spoke, "I do need to go back to Seldvale. My car's waiting. I'll be gone for two months."

"So what?" Her expression conveyed her indifference to his departure—a blend of innocence and infuriating audacity.

He moved closer, his eyes fixed on her like a predator. The atmosphere crackled with danger and magnetism. She attempted to retreat, but her back was against the door.

In the next instant, her chin was tilted, and before she could react, his lips claimed hers.

A silent moment followed, broken only by the pounding of their hearts.