Marco POV
By the time I get back from meeting Levi, it’s almost ten. The chef has left a covered plate for me in the warmer, and I heat it up and sit at the dining table with Kyra across from me. She isn’t eating since she already finished her dinner. But she’s watching me, eyes pacing to my face every few seconds as I cut into my steak. Her curious eyes tell me she wants to ask how my meeting went.
And I want to tell her but I’m not sure she’ll like what I did. I chew slowly, swallow, trying to draw out the time. If she gets tired of waiting and goes to bed, that will be swell.
“Did you see my father?” she asks.
I set my fork down and stare at her. “I’m sure he has already told you.”
“Marco, you’re making a mistake assuming he and I talk about everything. He tells me almost nothing
