The elevator jerked to a stop. Celina flinched, eyes snapping open at once. The doors slid apart, revealing the wide, luxurious living room of Thor’s penthouse.

She stepped out hesitantly. The space was softly lit, warm pools of light from discreet lamps giving the place a welcoming glow. And then the scent reached her—a mix of wood, lavender, and something she couldn’t quite define but would recognize anywhere. It was him.

That was when she heard footsteps from the hallway. The figure of the housekeeper, Mrs. Sara, appeared, looking nervous and startled by Celina’s unexpected presence. The woman’s eyes were wide, her usually calm, composed face pale and unsettled.

Celina froze, her stomach tightening.

“Mrs. Sara?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Is everything alright?”

The older woman took a step forward, smoothing her blouse with restless hands, as if unsure what to do with them.

“Oh, Miss Celina… I… I didn’t know you’d be coming tonight.”

Celina frowned. Mrs. Sara’s nervousness wa