Chapter 235

Victor ended his call and stepped into the open-plan kitchen. He filled a ceramic bowl with boiling water, then added a handful of nourishing ingredients, moving with unhurried precision.

Twenty minutes later, the comforting aroma of the soup filled the apartment. It was ready.

In the bedroom, Isadora lay on the bed with her eyes closed. She'd been drifting

in that half-awake, half-asleep state, but now any trace of drowsiness had vanished.

The sound of the bedroom door opening broke the silence.

Heavy footsteps padded across the room-slow, deliberate-drawing closer to the bed.

Her lashes fluttered as she clutched the blanket tighter, not daring to move.

She'd thought he would leave...

But Victor approached, tall and composed, a bowl of steaming soup cradled in his elegant hands. His shadow stretched long across the bed, the soft robe he wore doing little to conceal the restrained, almost monastic masculinity he exuded.

He held the bowl out to her, his tone casual and almost lazy. "I know you're not asleep. Drink this."

Isadora peeked out from under the covers, her wide eyes luminous against the soft spill of hair around her face. The blanket hid most of her features, making her look even more vulnerable-almost childlike.

the bowl in

hand into his pocket, the corners of his mouth lifting with a hint

the bowl, and drank it in

"Thank you," left her

didn't look away, his eyes crinkling with a faint,

trying to send me away than

He wasn't wrong.

gotten into him tonight, why he

forgotten that night-how coldly he'd turned

stung, left her cheeks burning every time she remembered

any guilt, he

to the edge of the bed, his dark eyes fixed on her pale

palm gently on

large and warm. The simple touch sent a strange shiver up Isadora's spine,

to frown, willing

Victor caught it in

her there, not

his gaze melted away, replaced by a rare tenderness. "Come on,

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