Oliver's POV
We ate in a quiet, heavy silence.
I kept watching her, noticing how she avoided my eyes. She was still thinking about the taste. I could see it in the way her brows would crease for a second before she forced herself to look normal again.
After we finished eating, I led her down the long hallway to a door at the far end of the penthouse.
My hand paused on the handle for a moment. I took a slow breath.
This was my space.
My history.
Everything that made me who I am.
I pushed the door open and stepped aside.
Aurora walked in slowly, her eyes widening as she took in the room. The walls were lined with dark wood shelves, each one filled with trophies, medals, and ancient-looking plaques. She walked toward the first shelf and reached out, her fingers grazing a heavy silver cup.
