BONUS CHAPTER

(Adrian's POV)


Before Clara, my world was spreadsheets and contracts, with Selina as my socially-approved accessory. I thought that was all there was.

I first ducked into Calm Breeze to escape some mind-numbing charity function.

But that woman and her coffee hit me like a lightning bolt, illuminating the sterile emptiness of my existence.


I became addicted to that peace, to watching her focused expression as she crafted each cup.

When Selina came to me sobbing, I remembered my promise to her father—that I'd always protect her.


The businessman in me calculated that sacrificing one small cafe to preserve my empire and my word was the logical choice.

I convinced myself it was just business, that emotions were irrelevant.

I couldn't admit that when I made that choice, something fundamental inside me shattered.

When Clara described destroying everything herself, I finally understood what I'd done.

I thought I'd just closed a business, but I'd destroyed the only thing I'd ever truly wanted—that pure, passionate soul who lived for her craft.

I thought I could build her a better cafe, but I was wrong.

I was trying to plant plastic flowers in the wasteland I'd created.

After the press conference, I sat alone in the perfect replica of Calm Breeze I'd built, surrounded by the sterile smell of new paint and construction.

I realized that for all my empire-building, for all my billions, I could never buy back that quiet afternoon and that perfect cup of coffee made with love.

With my own hands, I'd shut out the only breeze that could have saved me.

(Selina's POV)

Adrian and I have been a pair since college.

Everyone saw us as the golden couple. But I knew better than anyone—we were just business partners with benefits.

Our families had equal status, our skills complemented each other, and our merger would benefit both dynasties. This was our birthright, our destiny.

I loved his drive and power, and I was satisfied being his official plus-one.

I knew about Calm Breeze from the beginning.

I could tell whenever he'd been there—he'd return with a softness around his eyes that I never saw when he was with me.

I was jealous as hell.

Not of her specifically, but of that space where he found peace.

So when opportunity knocked, I instinctively aimed the wrecking ball at her sanctuary. I wanted to see if he'd still find peace in her broken dreams.