VIVIAN froze as if the floor beneath her had tilted. The question landed like a cold hand against her cheek, and for a beat she had to steady herself. She sat up, brows knitting into a stubborn line, then drew a long breath and met his gaze.
“I’m keeping it,” she said, the words steady, final.
Adrian’s face remained unreadable for a moment; the room hummed with the weight of the declaration. He sat up slowly, as if the motion itself required thought, and folded his hands together on his knees.
“I’m not saying you can’t,” he said finally, his voice low, “but I want you to be sure this is really what you want.”
Vivian’s mouth tightened. She had expected celebration, or at least some fierce claim of responsibility, anything but this measured caution. She stared at him for a long second,
