Delilah placed the empty bowl into the sink, turning on the faucet to rinse it clean.
As the warm water washed away the last traces of her midnight snack, she felt a lingering warmth—not just from the soup, but from the thought that Marco had saved it for her.
He hadn't asked where she was, or if she was okay. Instead, he'd just known she'd be hungry, known she’d need comfort.
With a soft smile lingering on her lips, she turned off the faucet and dried her hands.
The mansion was steeped in silence, each room cloaked in shadows.
She tiptoed down the hall to the bedroom, careful to keep her steps light and avoid the creaks on the wooden floor.
Marco lay on his side, the slow rise and fall of his breathing hinting at sleep.
Delilah glanced at him, feeling a pang of affection that
