Nora's POV
She should have been prepared for this.
She should have known that Duke would act as if nothing had happened.
And yet, when he stood there, cold and composed, something inside her still cracked.
She had told herself that it was just one night.
She had wanted to believe it was nothing.
But her body still remembered his touch.
And worse—so did her heart.
Nora tightened her grip on the robe, pressing her nails into her palm to ground herself.
"Good," Duke had said.
Good.
That word felt like a blade slicing through her.
"You should be resting."
She had wanted to laugh at that.
Rest?
How could she rest when her entire world had shifted overnight?
When she had given him something she never intended to give?
When she had spent the whole morning trying to convince herself that it didn't matter?
She turned away from him, staring out the window, willing herself to push it all down.
"I understand that," she had told him.
And she hated that she did.
Because this was never meant to be anything more than a contract.
Just a cold exchange.
Nothing more.
Then why did she feel like she had lost something?
Duke didn't move.
He stood there, silent, watching her.
Waiting for something.
But Nora refused to look at him again.
If she did, she might see something in his eyes that she wasn't ready for.
So she kept her gaze locked on the rain-streaked glass, listening as his footsteps finally echoed out of the room.
Only when she was certain he was gone did she let out the breath she had been holding.
Then, slowly, she let herself feel it.
The ache.
The lingering heat.
And the overwhelming sense of loss.
Duke's POV
Duke ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
He had done the right thing.
The necessary thing.
And yet, as he walked down the hallway, all he could think about was the way Nora hadn't looked at him.
The way she had turned away.
The way her fingers had clutched her robe, as if shielding herself.
He shouldn't care.
It shouldn't bother him.
But it did.
More than it should.
And worse—he couldn't stop replaying last night.
The way she had trembled beneath him.
The way she had whispered his name.
The way she had given herself to him completely, without hesitation, without barriers—
And he had been her first.
His jaw clenched at the memory.
He should have known.
Should have realized it sooner.
But he had been too caught up in the heat of the moment, too blinded by her.
And now…
Now, there was no undoing it.
She was tied to him in a way neither of them had expected.
And that made everything dangerous.
He had spent years keeping himself from feeling anything real.
Had locked his heart away the moment Elena was ripped from him.
Had told himself that love, attachment, emotions—
All of it was a weakness.
Yet here he was, standing in the middle of the hallway, unable to shake the thought of a girl who had no place in his heart.
A girl who was supposed to be just a means to an end.
And that was exactly why he needed to stop this.
Whatever this was.
Because if he didn't—
He might start breaking rules he swore he'd never break.