(Sterling-Horizon Group Headquarters, Penthouse Suite)
Morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gilding Alia's shoulders with a soft golden hue.
She sat at the piano, fingers hovering just above the keys—but didn't press down.
Carson approached from behind, his warm palm settling gently over the back of her hand, guiding her to strike the first note.
"Adagio in G minor?" Alia tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth lifting. "I remember—that was your mother's favorite piece."
Carson rested his chin atop her head, his voice low and steady. "It's my favorite now too."
His breath brushed against her ear. Their fingers intertwined as he led her through the full melody, note by note.
Beside the piano sat a freshly cut rose, petals still kissed with morning dew—chosen by Carson himself each dawn, ever since Alia once offhandedly mentioned she liked the scent of roses.
As the final chord faded, Alia turned to face him. Her fingertips traced the faint scar beneath his collar, just barely visible through the open neck of his shirt.
"You never told me," she said softly, "why you have the Sterling family's access mark."
Carson caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingertip.
"Because my mother… was the last member of the Order of the Shackled Chain." His gaze held hers, unwavering. "She protected your father for ten years—until Davis found her."
Alia's breath caught. Carson gently pulled her closer, their foreheads touching.
"And now," he whispered,
"it's my turn to protect you."