In the dead of night, the moon hung low in the western sky.
In the bedroom, the small lamp on the bedside table was still on, emitting a soft yellow glow.
Ronan, half-leaning on the pillow, let out a long breath and reached out to touch the face of the beauty in his arms.
Delores let out a soft moan and slowly opened her tightly closed eyes.
Her eyes were as bright as stars, filled with endless tenderness and deep affection.
In a gentle voice, Ronan asked, "Does it still hurt?"
Delores shook her head, then pressed her flushed face against Ronan's chest, listening to the heartbeat within.
The strong, powerful pulsation made her feel incredibly safe and content.
Ronan couldn't help but ask, "Janice?"
"She's my sister's daughter."
Knowing what Ronan wanted to ask, Delores replied softly, "The only descendant of the Toran Family."
