Chapter 352
Daphne
I pull up at the cottage.
The headlights cut through the fog, illuminating the small house nestled in the hills. It's modest—nothing like the Han mansion, nothing like the penthouses and estates I've accumulated over the years. But it's ours. For now.
I stop the engine and exhale. The tension in my shoulders doesn't disappear, but it softens. Just a little.
I get out of the car. The night air is cool, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. I walk up the path, unlock the door, step inside.
Warmth. Light. And the smell of food simmering on the stove.
I follow the scent.
She's in the kitchen, her back to me, stirring something in a pot. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face.
I stand in the doorway and watch her.
She doesn't notice me. She's in her zone, humming something under her breath, moving around the kitchen with an ease that makes my chest ache.
She's so beautiful.
