Joel Russo just let her go, got up and went into the kitchen.
Arabella Vanderbilt curled up on the sofa, drowsy. When the aroma of food wafted out, she instinctively twitched her nose, but still didn't move from her spot on the sofa.
It wasn't until Joel Russo's figure appeared at the dining room doorway, dressed in casual home clothes yet still carrying an innate elegance, that his presence was incredibly strong.
"Time to eat."
He spoke, holding two white napkins between his long fingers, elegantly and gracefully wiping the moisture from his hands.
Arabella cuddled a throw pillow, nestled in the corner of the sofa. Hearing his voice, she turned her head, her chin resting on the pillow, and slowly blinked her eyes.
She opened her mouth, a lazy and soft voice emerged, "I'm sleepy."
Her fine, long hair was slightly disheveled due to her casual lounging, now loosely draping over her shoulders, making her face appear particularly petite and charming.
