Chapter 21

The room wasn’t tense. It was ready to burn.

Marco waited for her to flinch, to look away. She didn’t. She looked straight at him, shoulders back, chin high. Quiet steel in her eyes.

No words. None needed. The silence crackled.

Then she moved.

Fingers to the apron strings. One tug, and it hit the floor. Buttons next—slow, steady. Fabric parted, showing skin and plain white cotton.

Marco’s jaw lock