The early morning sunlight filtered softly through the studio windows, dust motes dancing like tiny stars above the polished piano. Mio sat on the bench, her fingers hovering above the keys, ready to run through her vocal warm-ups. Today was important. Not only was she practicing for her upcoming debut, but every note she sang mattered; every expression she conveyed would be scrutinized by her agent, Len Sky, and—unfortunately for her—her ever-watchful husband, Claude Lockheart.
Claude, despite being CEO of both Jean and Lockheart Company, seemed to have completely forgotten about the mountain of work waiting for him. Instead of reviewing reports or signing contracts, he hovered near the doorway like a mischievous shadow, eyes fixed on Mio as she practiced scales. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, the faint sunlight catching the contours of his chest, making him look simultaneously distractingly handsome and utterly infuriating.
