Marcelina~
By the time I reached the dining room, I slowed. The room was already set. Only this time, it wasn't empty. I could hear voices from inside.
"And where is she?"
I recognized the voice immediately.
His mother.
There was no warmth in it, no patience either. Just expectation, edged with irritation. I stilled just outside the door, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides.
"She's keeping us waiting now?" she continued, her tone sharpening. "This is unbelievable."
A brief silence followed.
Then Domenico's voice came through—calm, measured, and almost bored.
"She can take all the time she needs."
On hearing that, I furrowed my brows.
Was he... defending me? Or was this just another part of whatever role he was playing? He hadn't sounded irritated. Or even slightly conce
