Bab 44: Chapter 44

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting a muted golden hue over the lavish space. 

Diara sat stiffly at the dining table, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her plate. Opposite her, Kellan adjusted his chair, his movements slow and deliberate, the weight of unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.  

The faint clinking of silverware against porcelain broke the silence as Kellan carefully cut the steak on her plate.

 His touch was unnervingly gentle, a stark contrast to the memory that lingered just beneath her skin—a memory that burned her mind as vividly as the physical scars left behind.  

He placed the neatly cut pieces before her and leaned back, his voice calm, almost warm. "Please, eat," he said, watching her intently.  

Diara glanced down at the plate, her stomach twisting. The steak, cooked to perfection, was glistening under the candlelight, the smell rich and enticing.