_Zarelle’s POV_
It was quite late when I reached home, my feet aching from the heels I’d worn all evening.
I brushed my teeth, changed into a set of comfortable pajamas and slipped into bed, planning to catch up on some much-needed rest.
My body melted into the mattress, exhaustion pulling me down.
The next morning, the sun’s rays filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow on my face.
The combination of my biological clock and the glaring light caused me to toss and turn, yet I was unwilling to open my eyes.
It was a Saturday, blessed Saturday.
I didn’t have to go to work, didn’t have to deal with meetings or contracts or demanding clients.
It was the persistent ringing of my phone that finally jolted me awake, dragging me from peaceful oblivion.
