Her phone suddenly buzzed. She scrambled to silence it, heart thumping, and stole a glance at the screen.

It was a message from Logan-

[Mr. Harrison Lancaster hasn't slept at all tonight.]

Just one short sentence, but it sent a tremor through Anastasia's heart.

He couldn't sleep... was it because she wasn't there?

She turned to look at the man sleeping deeply beside her. The feeling that swept over her was bittersweet-joy, because she mattered to him so much; sorrow, for the exact same reason.

What had she really given him, anyway? Nothing tangible-just her company for a brief while, a few kind words whispered in the dark. And yet, that was enough for him to feel he couldn't live without her.

How much loneliness had this man endured, for him to grasp so tightly to the scraps of comfort and affection she offered?

Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Quietly, she nestled closer into his arms and closed her eyes.

Anastasia slept soundly for the first half of the night, and woke early the next morning.

Harrison was still fast asleep, and she obediently stayed curled up in his embrace, not daring to move.

Her gaze drifted to his chest: lean muscle stretched beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. She tried to resist, but curiosity got the better of her-carefully, she raised her head to check if he was still asleep. When she saw he hadn't stirred, she bravely extended a finger and gave him a gentle poke-

"Ah!" In a flash, her small hand was enveloped by his much larger one. She let out a startled yelp.

She looked up, guilt written all over her face, but when her eyes met his striking, handsome features, she couldn't help but smile. "Morning, hubby! You're awake!"

"What were you up to, hmm?" His voice was still thick with sleep, but somehow even deeper and more magnetic than usual, his eyes fixed on her with that unyielding intensity.

"I just wanted to see how it felt..." she mumbled, half-embarrassed, half-playful. "You're my hubby now-can't I at least do that?"

His eyes darkened, a dangerous glint in them.

"You can." His hand traced lazy circles along her waist. "You're my wife now, so there are... other things you can do, too."

The words had barely left his lips before he pulled her close, trapping her beneath him with no warning at all.

By the time they finally got out of bed, it was already ten o'clock.

Anastasia was supposed to have a morning class, but at this point, there was no use rushing. Instead, she grabbed her phone and called in sick for the day.

Logan had arranged for breakfast to be ready. Watching Harrison stroll in looking rested and perfectly content-a complete contrast to the anxious, sleepless man from the night before-Logan silently upgraded the new Mrs. Lancaster's status in his mind.

Anastasia, on the other hand, looked absolutely worn out, her steps unsteady as Harrison led her to the table.

It was only then that she learned the truth: Harrison had bought this apartment last night, on a whim.

"Move your things over. From now on, you'll live here," he announced as they finished breakfast, dabbing a napkin to her lips, leaving no room for argument.

Anastasia's eyes lit up as she turned to him. "What about you? Are you going to live here too?"

If he meant for her to live alone, then what was the point? This place wouldn't be any different from her dorm.

There was only one reason for him to want her here he planned to stay, too!

Harrison's tone was mild. "You don't want to?"

"Yes, yes, I do!" Anastasia nodded so fast she was practically beaming. "That's perfect! Now I get to be with you every single day, hubby!"

Harrison had always been the decisive type. Once he'd made up his mind, he never left room for debate, nor did he care for anyone else's opinion.

But seeing her reaction now, his expression softened—just a little.

At four in the afternoon, Anastasia left the apartment.

It was time to go teach Penelope a lesson.