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The grand foyer yawned open ahead of him, all gilded moldings and polished banisters. But his focus was beyond it—through the set of double doors that marked the heart of the building.

From behind them came a soft sound.

Music.

Piano—light, tentative, like a story being whispered instead of told.

He slowed, frowning slightly. Someone else was here.

His fingers brushed the brass doorknob, disappointment creeping in. But the moment he opened the door, that feeling shattered.

There she was.

Rose.

Alone at the piano, a broom forgotten and leaning against an ornate chair. Her head bowed slightly, the light from an overhead spotlight casting a halo over her hair.

She didn’t see him.

And God help him, he couldn’t move.

The notes shifted as he stood at the back of the darkened theatre. Random chords became something deliberate—gentle, aching, full of hope and heartbreak. Then, she began to sing.

Her voice wrapped around him like velvet. It was husky and pure, raw and reverent.

He felt like an intruder—but he couldn’t look away. Every word, every trembling note, sounded like a confession pulled from her soul.

She sang of a man who didn’t really see her.

Of wanting to be seen.

Of a kiss that didn’t count—but had marked her just the same.

Theo swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

She was singing about him.

And she had no idea he was there.

He moved slowly down the aisle, his eyes locked on her. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened with a longing that had nowhere to go.

She was ethereal. Unreachable. Until she wasn’t.

As he climbed the stairs to the stage, his chest ached with something unfamiliar. Reverence. Desire. Love. Not the love he knew from contracts and convenience. This was the love that made a man forget everything else—just to hear her sing for one more minute.

Her voice faltered on the last note. Her hands fell away from the keys.

And then she looked up.

Their eyes collided.

She looked stunned. A delicate blush rose to her cheeks, and her lips parted on a surprised breath, as if he’d been pulled from her imagination.

Theo didn’t speak. Words would have ruined it.

He stepped closer.

His eyes devoured her as she rose gracefully from the piano bench. Her gaze never left his. Her hand lifted as if she needed to touch him.