"Scent" hung heavy in the air, sparking a flicker of confusion in Eileen's eyes. Did he mean something unpleasant? But as their gazes locked, a slow burn ignited beneath the surface. It mirrored that night, the same smoldering intensity in his crimson eyes.
Unsure if this was playful banter or a heartfelt confession, a tide of potential embarrassment threatened to engulf her. Eileen, unable to decipher his true meaning, tore her gaze away.
Meanwhile, the air crackled with unspoken tension. Cesare strode purposefully into the room, his every step echoing in the confined space. Reaching the center, he finally released her, his touch lingering a beat too long before she found her footing.
He proceeded to meticulously inspect the room once more, not merely observing but also running his hands over various objects. He pressed the backrest of the small single sofa that Eileen often occupied.
