The sounds echoing from the kitchen caught Kafka's attention. Judging by how lively the chatter was, anyone would've assumed it was Camila, since she practically lived in there—experimenting with new recipes, perfecting flavors, and ensuring every meal in the house was divine.
She was, after all, the best cook in the family.
But these voices were different.
There was laughter, bright, ringing, elegant, and another, lower one that carried a sharp, reluctant tone. The combination was so odd that Kafka slowed his steps, raising an eyebrow.
There was no way Camila was in there.
When he reached the doorway and peeked inside, the sight that greeted him made him stop dead in his tracks, then break into an amused grin.
It was them.
Two women he knew very well...but who he never thought he'd see together like this.
On one side stood June—the graceful, cheerful, and utterly radiant owner of the famous lingerie boutique.
