The Heart of the Mafia Twin
he replied, holding up a paper bag like a peace offering.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes bright despite the shadows beneath them. “You’re forgiven.”
He sat beside her, resting his arm behind her shoulders as he peeked at the sketchpad. “You’ve already drawn half the café. That’s ambitious.”
“Vision,” she corrected him softly, tapping her pencil against the page. “I want to do this right.”
Artemis studied the lines on the page—the graceful curve of the windows, the soft awnings, even the tiny vines she had penciled in along the side. “It looks like you,” he said after a pause. “Comforting. Bright. Just a little quirky.”
Bab Populer