?Chapter 172:


    Hadley lifted a hand and knocked on the door.


    Before he left, Lennon gave her onest warning. “Watch yourself.”


    “Alright.”


    “Come in.”


    Hadley took a steadying breath and pushed the door open. “Mr. Murray.”


    The room was bathed in soft lighting, the warm glow casting long shadows. A gramophone on the table yed a slow, soothing melody. Duran stood, offering a soft smile as he pulled out a chair for her.


    “Have a seat.”


    “Thank you.”


    Duran settled across from her and gestured toward the table. “Hungry? I had these prepared for you.”


    “Really?”


    Her gazended on a rich brownie and a bowl of Greek yogurt topped with fresh fruit.


    Duran leaned back, watching her reaction. “I asked Lennon. He said you liked these.”


    Hadley hesitated for a beat, warmth creeping into her expression. “I do,” she admitted, her voice softer.


    Despite everything—his age, the secrecy of their arrangement—he had…


    Hadley picked up a spoon and began to eat.


    She had already wiped away her stage makeup and changed into something simple, almost modest. Yet, despite the toned-down look, there was no hiding the quiet elegance she carried—the kind that made people look twice.


    Duran studied her for a beat before asking, “How old are you, anyway?”


    “Twenty-four.”


    A soft sigh escaped him. “So young.” His gaze lingered, the weight of it making his words feel heavier than they should.


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    “I’m full.” Hadley set down her spoon.


    “Mr. Murray…” She pushed back her chair and stood, offering her hand with a small smile. “Thanks for the food. Care to dance?”


    Duran chuckled, slipping his fingers into hers. “Why not?”


    The moment their hands met, Hadley tensed—just for a second. A shiver of unease flickered through her, but she smothered it before it could settle.


    Duran rose, his grip steady as he slid his other arm around her waist. Hadley rested a hand on his shoulder, falling into step with him as the music swayed around them.


    “Hadley,” Duran murmured, his voice smooth and unreadable.


    Duran studied her, his gaze unwavering. “Do you understand what I want from you?”


    “Yes.” Hadley lifted her chin, meeting his eyes without hesitation. “I do.”


    “And you’re willing?”


    He already knew the answer—her actions had spoken for her. But still, Duran wanted to hear it.


    “Yes.” Hadley’s voice was steady, her resolve unmistakable. “I’m willing.”


    A slow smile curved her lips as she looked up at him.


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