The next morning,
Isabella awoke to the soft clinking of glass and the enticing aroma of fresh coffee filling the room. She blinked slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and saw Enrico at the bedside, carefully placing a tray laden with breakfast on the stool next to the bed. A small vase with a single red rose stood elegantly in the centre of the tray, surrounded by a spread of freshly baked croissants, sliced fruits, and a steaming cup of coffee.
Enrico noticed she was awake and flashed her a warm smile. “Morning,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.” Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead before sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving her.
For a moment, Isabella felt a rare sense of peace, cocooned in the warmth of the morning and En
