Chapter 483

• Her fingertip rested on the edge of her phone, her thumb unconsciously rubbing the screen's crack.
• After deleting the messages, she brushed her index knuckle across her lashes, casting a shadow over her eyes. Her hand, holding the phone, revealed slightly protruding veins. She deliberately tread lightly over the marble foyer, as if fearing to awaken some dormant danger.
• Dorian was no longer in the dining room; the silver coffee pot still retained some warmth.