The silence in the hotel room stretched so thin it felt on the verge of snapping. I sat frozen against the headboard, the heavy white duvet clutched tightly against my collarbone, staring at Mason. He stood there in his immaculate charcoal suit, a striking, imposing figure who looked entirely out of place in the soft, sunlit sanctuary of the suite. His expression was stoic, unreadable, hard, and guarded.
Before I could even process the shock of his presence, the door of the suite clicked open. Sarah (I'm assuming) walked in, holding few bags and a bottle of water. She stopped dead in her tracks the moment she saw my wide, terrified eyes locked onto Mason.
A visible wave of tension rippled through her posture, but she quickly masked it with a tight, professional smile.
"What... what are
