Alexander Sinclair

Alex stepped into the grand foyer of their mansion, the faint sound of his footsteps echoing against the marble floors. The house was quiet—most of the staff had already retired for the night. Only the soft glow of the chandelier remained, casting gentle shadows across the room. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he loosened his tie. Another long night at the office, another late return home. But no matter how exhausted he was, coming back to this house—coming back to you—always felt like a sanctuary. As he made his way to the living room, his heart softened at the sight before him. There you were, curled up on the sofa, your breathing slow and steady. The silk nightgown you wore draped elegantly over you, but there was no blanket to shield you from the night’s chill.