Cesar Valkov stepped into the living room. He was a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a dark suit, a takeout bag in one hand. His black hair was slightly windswept, and the scar over his right eye caught the light. He set the bag on the coffee table, the scent of cedarwood and savory food cutting through the vanilla.

Dylan leaned against the frame, arms crossed. He was still in his work clothes, glasses perched on his nose.

Kaylin appeared beside Dylan, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She smiled, her blue eyes soft as she looked from her boyfriend to Y/n on the couch.