Perfect! Here's a continuation
Mia's POV
The penthouse felt quieter without Ryan.
Not empty, just... still. Like something had been unplugged from the atmosphere.
Eric adjusted quickly. He always did. His energy filled the space, and I stayed busy—mornings preparing breakfast, days at Saint Haven Medical Center, evenings filled with his stories, his giggles, his endless questions.
But in the quiet moments—when the dishes were washed, when the lights were off, when Eric was asleep—I found my thoughts drifting.
To him.
Ryan Saint.
His presence had been a storm—unexpected, disruptive, impossible to ignore. But now, with the storm gone, I felt… the absence.
I shouldn't.
We weren't real.
This wasn't love. It wasn't even a relationship. Just a contract sealed with signatures and cold stares.
So why did I miss hearing the soft click of the door when he came home?
Why did my eyes drift to my phone, hoping to see a message from a man who never once texted me?
I hated myself a little for that.
But I also wondered… was he thinking of us, even a little?
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Ryan's POV
Chloria was colder than usual.
The elders called it a sign—something about shifting balance, bloodlines, and politics. I barely listened. My thoughts were elsewhere.
On the rooftop garden of the Saint estate, I looked down over the ancient city—its towering obsidian spires, its moonlit marble courtyards, the glow of our realm hidden beneath the veil of the world.
It should've felt like home.
It didn't.
Not anymore.
I wasn't a sentimental man. I never had been. But for the first time in years, I felt… unbalanced.
It wasn't just Mia. It was the child's laughter echoing in my ears. Her laugh when he said something ridiculous. Her stubborn pride when she refused help around the house. Her warmth.
No one in Chloria ever made me feel that.
I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, jaw tense.
This was exactly why I couldn't let myself soften. She was dangerous.
Kindness always is.