Christian smiled knowingly, reading the thoughts crossing her face. "I actually helped get them ready myself this morning."

Fleur’s jaw practically dropped. "You?"

He nodded, a trace of boyish pride warming his features.

"Though, I have a confession to make." A small, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. "I never truly realized just how much relentless work goes into a single morning routine with children."

His expression softened, the playful banter melting away into something profoundly raw.

"You’ve done an incredible job raising them, Fleur." There wasn’t a hint of teasing left in his voice. Only deep, unadulterated admiration. "Those two are thoughtful, polite, and wonderfully bright."

He lifted his hand to his brow in a playful, respectful salute. "So, here’s to the strongest woman I know. My superhero."

A sudden wave of raw emotion flickered across Fleur’s face, tightening her throat. She looked away quickly, staring at the sheets before he could see the tears pricking her eyes.

"You don’t have to say things like that."

"I do," his reply was instant. "Because I mean every single word."

He reached over, his large hand gently tucking a loose, golden strand of hair behind her ear.

"You’ve carried the weight of the world on your own for long enough, Fleur." His voice dropped to a quiet, intimate whisper. "But not anymore."

He held her captive with his gaze, refusing to let her look away. "From now on, we take care of them together."

The quiet, unshakable certainty in his words made something deep inside Fleur tremble violently. She wanted to believe him. Moon Goddess, she wanted to believe him so badly. Yet years of bitter disappointment and survival mode refused to let her trust a man so easily.

"You don’t owe us anything," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her fears.

"I know." His soft smile never faded, steady as a rock. "I want to."

A heavy, poignant silence settled over the room, thick with unsaid promises. Then, Christian broke the tension, glancing toward the untouched tray.

"Eat before it gets cold." His eyes lingered on her lips a fraction too long. "Otherwise..."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. "Otherwise what?"

A wicked, mischievous grin spread across his handsome face. "Otherwise, I might find myself entirely distracted."

An intense heat immediately colored Fleur’s cheeks. "You are absolutely impossible."

"So I’ve been told."

She bit her lower lip to hide the involuntary smile breaking through her defenses. That innocent, entirely subconscious gesture was enough to make Christian exhale a sharp, ragged breath.

"You really shouldn’t do that," he growled softly.

"What?"

"Look at me like that."

Before she could even ask what he meant, he reached out, taking her hand and gently pulling her flush against him. The protective blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist. But Christian’s gaze didn’t harden with raw lust; instead, it softened with a reverence that took her breath away. There was affection there. Longing. A quiet sense of wonder.

He cupped her face between both of his large hands before capturing her lips in another slow, agonizingly deep kiss.

This one felt entirely different. It was less hurried, stripped of urgency, and overflowing with a profound tenderness that made her chest ache.

Fleur found herself completely melting into his touch, abandoning every mental promise she had made to keep her emotional distance. Her fingers found his broad shoulders naturally, gripping the fabric of his shirt as she returned the kiss with a quiet desperation of her own.

Time seemed to warp and disappear entirely. Neither of them noticed how closely their bodies had drifted together until Christian gathered her comfortably into his lap, holding her against his chest.

He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing shallow. "I’ve missed this. So damn much."

"So have I," Fleur admitted, the confession slipping past her lips before she could stop it.

Their eyes locked, neither willing to break the spell. For a brief, beautiful moment, the chaotic world outside ceased to exist. There was only the quiet room, the morning light, and the two of them.

Then, the heavy bedroom door swung open with a sudden click.

"Mr. Wayne, someone just delivered your—" Lea froze mid-sentence, the words dying in her throat. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "...things."

An agonizing silence filled the room.

Fleur and Christian turned toward the doorway in perfect, frozen unison. Lea blinked once. Then twice.

"...Mr. Wayne?" Lea’s gaze bounced awkwardly between the two of them, taking in their tangled limbs, before she abruptly slammed her eyes toward the ceiling. "Oh."

Another excruciatingly long pause stretched between them.

"I... probably should have knocked."

Mortified, Fleur instantly buried her burning face against Christian’s shoulder, wishing the bed would open up and swallow her whole.

Meanwhile, Christian remained completely unbothered, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. "That," he said with perfect, aristocratic calm, "would have been highly appreciated."

Lea covered her eyes with one hand, her face flushing. "I’ll just... leave these right outside."

Without waiting for a syllable of response, she spun on her heel, hurried out into the hallway, and firmly shut the door behind her.

A heavy beat of silence passed. Then, Fleur let out a long, pathetic groan into his chest. "I’m never going to survive facing her after this. Never."

Christian chuckled softly, the vibration rumbled deeply against her cheek. "I have a strong feeling she’ll recover."

"I am not nearly as confident as you are."

He smiled, pressing one last, comforting kiss to the crown of her head. "Then I’ll gladly take all the blame."

"You already are the blame," Fleur muttered into his shirt, though she couldn’t stop the laugh that finally bubbled up.

His rich laughter echoed warmly through the sun-drenched room, chasing away the last lingering shadows of the night.