(Evelyn POV)
I got home from Sophia’s place, and the moment I opened the door, a wave of delicious aroma wrapped around me. The smell was so rich, so tempting that my stomach instantly reminded me I hadn’t eaten all day. For a second, I thought maybe the maid on duty was finally doing her job right—or perhaps they had hired someone new.
Curious, I followed the scent straight to the kitchen.
But when I stepped inside, I froze.
Damien.
He was standing there, sleeves rolled up, wearing a short nika and a white singlet that clung perfectly to his chest. He was chopping vegetables, completely focused, like he belonged there—like cooking dinner was the most natural thing in the world for him. My breath hitched without warning. I had seen Damien in suits, commanding boardrooms, and silencing
