It was morning and the sun was heavily filtering through the window, but Anastasia and Dylan were still cuddling in bed.
To anyone looking in, the scene was a portrait of domestic recovery.
Dylan's arms were wrapped firmly around Anastasia, his chin resting atop her head.
Internally, he was finally at peace, the silence of things for the last two weeks felt like a victory, a hard-won shield against the chaos of before.
But Anastasia was nowhere near peaceful... unfairly, she was trying not to think about anything but it was rather difficult.
While her body was tucked into Dylan's warmth, her mind was drifting across the Atlantic.
She was spiraling at the familiar, dark gravity of Matteo Ramirez pulling at her thoughts.
She found herself wondering about the villa. Was he still spending most of his time in his office? Was he sitting on that massive bed, watching Isabella sleep?
