The Mafia's Substitute Bride
His thumb grazed a graphite line and smudged it slightly, but neither of them moved to correct it.
Kennedy returned carrying two small paper packages. Sweet potatoes, still warm. She passed one to Satoshi, who split it open and offered Alecia a piece. She bit into it slowly. The taste was sweet, more delicate than she expected. Satoshi watched her for a moment, then smiled, not commenting. His eyes, warmed by the sunlight, didn’t push or press.
Time drifted without needing to be named. When the sun began to dip behind the tiled rooftops, they stood together. Satoshi bowed lightly, the faint scent of sandalwood still clinging to his clothes.
Bab Populer