Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains as Adeline stirred beneath the covers, her muscles rexed for the first time in weeks. She sat up against the pillows, dragging her fingers through her hair before reaching for her phone on the side table.

  Dozens of notifications greeted her, but one name stood out among them all—Tess Wells.

  Her brow arched as she opened the messages:“Are you okay?”“You’re not hurt, right?”“Come back safe, Madam President.”“I swear if you die before hearing me out, I’m going to find your ghost and yell at it.”

  Adeline chuckled, her heart warming in her chest.

  She stared at Tess’s number a moment longer, then pressed the call button. The phone rang a few times before a sleepy, muffled voice answered on the other end.“Hhhhello…?”

  Adeline blinked, holding back a smile.“Did I wake you, Miss Wells?”

  There was a long pause.“…Who’s this?”

  Adeline ughed softly.“Have you already forgotten the woman you cimed to love? My heart breaks, truly.”

  A beat. Then suddenly —“ADELINE?!” Tess’s voice sharpened with recognition and disbelief. “Oh my god, you’re alive! Wait, of course you’re alive—but you’re okay, right? Where are you? I—wait, are you actually calling me?!”

  Adeline grinned, stretching zily under the covers.“Should I not be? I did miss the sound of your voice. Even if it comes with a sleepy snore.”

  “I do not snore,” Tess mumbled defensively. Then quieter, “…Maybe sometimes.”

  Adeline chuckled again.“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

  Tess groaned dramatically.“You can’t just flirt with me after radio silence. That’s unfair presidential power abuse.”

  “Then arrest me,” Adeline teased. “But only after dinner. And dessert. And maybe a kiss goodnight.”

  Tess’s ughter was soft now, tender.“I’m really gd you’re okay, Adeline.”

  Adeline’s smile faltered, repced with something gentler.“So am I.”

  Just then, the bedroom door creaked open. Martin stepped in with a stack of folders in his hand only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of the president, gloriously unbothered and very much naked beneath her silk sheets.

  He raised a brow.“Should I come back when you’ve put on pants, Madam President?”

  Adeline turned to him with a smirk, unashamed.“No need, Martin. I was just about to get dressed. I think I’ve sufficiently scandalised your morning.”

  Martin sighed, muttering something about “diplomatic decorum being optional apparently.”

  Adeline brought the phone back to her ear with a grin.“Duty calls, Tess. But… I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “Okay.” Tess’s voice was soft again. “Don’t forget the dinner, dessert, and kiss.”

  Adeline ended the call with a soft ugh, heart lighter than it had been in days.

  Tess smirked as she put her phone down. She was still curled up in Martin’s bed, his familiar cologne clinging faintly to the sheets. “Oh Adeline,” she murmured to herself, stretching like a zy cat beneath the covers, “looks like you still don’t know I’m under the same roof.”

  With a quiet ugh, she tossed the bnket aside and padded barefoot to the window. Morning sunlight bathed the estate grounds in gold, and as she looked out, a sleek bck car pulled up the driveway. She squinted, unconcerned. Probably some official or another… this pce was always crawling with high-level guests.

  Martin’s words echoed in her head: “Just stay here until I come get you.”

  She wasn’t about to make his job harder by waltzing around the presidential estate unannounced. Not yet, at least. Besides, the st thing she wanted was to ambush Adeline. Not without a pn… and preferably lipstick.

  Yawning, Tess grabbed her phone and typed a quick message:

  Tess: I’m awake. And hungry. Don’t make me eat the decorative soaps in your bathroom.

  Seconds ter, her phone buzzed.

  Martin: A maid will bring breakfast to my room. Try not to charm her, I need the staff loyal to me.

  Tess smirked and rolled her eyes, flopping back down onto the bed dramatically.

  Tess: No promises.

  She tossed the phone aside and id back, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling. ‘Soon,’ she thought, ‘I’ll see her soon.’ But what would she say when she did? What could she say to a president whose heart she might’ve bruised?

  Before she could spiral too deep into her thoughts, a soft knock came at the door.

  A knock came again — soft, almost hesitant.

  Tess straightened the sheets on Martin’s bed and walked over. She opened the door to find a young maid standing there, barely older than twenty, pushing a small cart draped in a pristine white cloth. The girl’s eyes scanned Tess from head to toe, lingering just long enough to make Tess raise a brow in amusement.

  “Breakfast, ma’am,” the maid said coolly, her tone polite but distant.

  Tess stepped aside to let her in, quirking a smirk. “Not used to guests in his room, huh?”

  The maid didn’t answer. She simply pushed the cart inside and stopped beside the small sitting area by the window. As she set a silver dome gently on the cart, she added ftly, “Mr. Secretary will see you after twelve today.”

  Tess blinked. “So I’m on house arrest?”

  No response.

  The maid dipped her head slightly, then turned on her heel and walked out with graceful efficiency — no eye contact, no goodbye, just silence and poise.

  Tess shut the door and leaned her forehead against it for a moment. “Looks like I’m locked up until further notice,” she muttered.

  With a sigh, she turned and pushed the cart toward the armchair by the window. Lifting one silver cover, she let out a genuine gasp.

  “Pastries… eggs, bacon, toast, jam, butter—” she blinked, staring in awe at the elegant spread. “A presidential-style breakfast.”

  She flopped down into the chair, grabbed a croissant, and bit into it, mumbling around the fky pastry, “Well, if I’m in prison, at least they’re feeding me like royalty.”

  She gnced out the window again, the same sleek car now parked and empty. Her heart skipped. Something told her the calm was about to end.

  *

  Sunlight filtered gently through the tall, ce-draped windows of the presidential estate’s lounging area. The air was warm with the scent of fresh peonies and roasted coffee. Adeline sat with her legs crossed at the edge of a plush cream sofa, a gss of grapefruit juice in hand and a thick folder of state documents open in front of her on the breakfast table.

  She wore a soft silk robe over a pale gold slip, her damp hair falling over her shoulders from the morning bath, and her gaze danced between policy briefs and handwritten notes. Calm, focused — until the sharp click of hurried heels echoed down the marbled hallway.

  Adeline looked up slowly, brows furrowing slightly.

  A tall, beautiful woman swept into the room. Her fiery red hair was curled and pinned with a sapphire clip that glinted under the lights. She wore a fitted white coat dress with gold accents, the neckline framing her elegant colrbone, and diamond earrings that sparkled with every step.

  It was Cressida Lennox, daughter of Prime Minister Edward Lennox, one of the President’s oldest political allies and closest advisors. His presence at the estate was always expected, and so too, by association, was hers though her appearances were often less formal and more… personal.

  Cressida’s eyes locked on Adeline immediately.

  “Madam President!” she gasped.

  In a dramatic rush, she closed the space between them and dropped to her knees beside the sofa. Her manicured hands csped Adeline’s, and tears shimmered in her jade eyes. “I was so worried about you. The news barely said anything. I feared the worst,” she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. “Thank the heavens you’re safe.”

  Adeline blinked, caught slightly off-guard. She gently removed her hand from Cressida’s grip and set down her gss, composed as ever. Her expression softened despite herself, a half-smile curling on her lips as she looked down at the woman before her.

  “Thank you for your concern, Cressida,” Adeline said, voice smooth and unreadable. “It’s good to be home.”

  But deep down, she could already feel the storm brewing. The same storm that used to swirl around Cressida—all beauty and elegance, yes… but hollow, like a stage set for a role she was always pying.

  Adeline leaned back in her seat, her mind already flickering to Tess—currently tucked away under the same roof that she wasn’t aware of.

  And she smiled.