Dylan's hands stilled for a fraction of a second.
Adelyn noticed it immediately, her gaze darting toward him in quiet confusion.
Yet his demeanor appeared unchanged —calm, composed, not a trace out of place.
His gaze lowered to the plate before lifting again … steady as ever.
But not quite the same.
If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she might have missed it entirely.
But fortunately, she has always been keen-eyed.
Cautious, she asked slowly, "Mr. Warren, is something wrong?"
Dylan didn't respond right away.
Instead, his gaze lingered on her face —studying, deliberate —as if noting every subtle flutter of her lashes before he finally spoke.
"Nothing. I was just curious about your friend."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the dishes on the table.
"Given how much he cares for you … you must be quite close to him."
Adelyn followed his gaze to the food.
His words sounded harmless, yet something beneath them told a different story.
