Layla stepped out of the bathroom, the warm scent of her shower clinging to her skin. She paused for a moment, letting the towel slide down, wrapping herself in a soft, worn cotton robe. Her hair was damp, strands sticking slightly to her cheeks, the soft smell of shampoo mingling with the faint perfume she always wore. She moved deliberately, almost ceremoniously, choosing an outfit that felt safe but pleasant, a cream-colored linen blouse that fell loosely around her torso, tucked into soft gray trousers that brushed against her ankles. She tugged gently at the waistband, adjusted the sleeves of the blouse, then tied her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting a few strands fall around her face. It wasn’t about looking perfect. It was about feeling herself again, comfortable, untethered from fear, even if only slightly. From the couch, Voss’s gaze followed her like a careful observer, but there was no judgment, no impatience, only a quiet admiration. The way she moved, the sm
Last Updated : 2025-12-18 Read more