Aarohi stirred, her bare skin grazing the silk sheets beneath her as sunlight streamed through the grand arched windows. The air still carried the scent of Rivaan—earthy, expensive, intoxicating. Her body ached with memories of the night before: the way he whispered her name like a prayer, the way he fell apart in her arms, and how he made her feel like the center of his universe.

But the bed beside her was empty.