I smile, the weight of everything fading away. “I won’t,” I promise, feeling blissfully happy.
The smile lingers as I sink into sleep. The last thing I feel is the steady warmth of him beside me, the quiet certainty of his presence wrapped around me like something unbreakable.
Chapter Six
Asher
Waking up with Nora beside me gives me a feeling I never thought I’d ever have. I definitely haven’t had it yet in my thirty-two years. Hearing her voice first thing in the morning. Watching the way she moves through the apartment like she belongs here—it feels like bliss.
Sometimes, it feels so unreal that I fear it’s a dream. And if it is, I don’t ever want to wake up. The intensity of what I feel scares me. Especially when I don’t know how she feels. I know she cares for me. It shows in her lingering stares, her expressive gaze. But it’s not something we’ve discussed.
I’m awake before she is again. I lie on my back, one arm behind my head, the other resting loosely around her waist. She’s half on top of me, her breathing slowing. Her body is relaxed in a way that tells me she’s comfortable.
Because I’m the one she’s trusting to keep it that way. But I still don’t have all the answers.
“Stop thinking so loud,” she murmurs against my chest, her voice soft with sleep.
My gaze drops to her, a faint shift in my expression I don’t bother hiding. “You’re awake.”
“Barely,” she replies, not moving. “But I can feel it when you start doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Overthinking,” she says, finally lifting her head to look at me. “You go all tense.”
I huff out a quiet breath. “Occupational hazard.”
She studies me for a second, then props herself up slightly, resting her chin on my chest. “Are you going to ask me again?”
“Yes.”
She groans softly, dropping her head back down. “You’ve already asked me everything.”
“And I’m asking again.”
She sighs, but she shifts anyway, settling more comfortably against me like she’s accepted it. “Fine. What now?”
“Your parents,” I say, my tone steady. “Tell me again. What they did. Who they knew.”
She’s quiet for a second, thinking. “My dad worked in finance. Investments mostly. My mom didn’t really work—he managed things at home, but she had friends, charity groups, stuff like that.”
“Names.”
She lifts her head again, frowning slightly. “I don’t remember all of them.”
“Try.”
Another sigh, but she nods, listing a few names slowly, her voice thoughtful as she works through her memories. I listen carefully, filing everything away, looking for anything that stands out, anything that connects. Nothing does. Not yet.
“Anyone they had issues with?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not that I know of. They were…normal. At least, I thought they were.”
“Business rivals?”
“I was a kid, Asher,” she says, giving me a look. “They didn’t exactly sit me down and explain their enemies.”
“Think, sweetheart,” I press.
