Roman had stepped into his dimly lit room, the soft thud of the door behind him fading into silence.
He pulled off his shirt, preparing to indulge in a refreshing bath, when a sudden wave of memories washed over him—Julian's words echoed in his mind, and he recalled the subtle hush from Carol, a quiet plea to keep him in the dark about something. Curiosity piqued, he turned the shirt inside out, glancing at the back only to discover a vivid lipstick stain, unmistakably the shape of her lips and painted in a bold red hue just below his neckline. His gaze narrowed, frustration bubbling up; this shirt was now destined for the trash.
