Sarkon stared at the neat stack of beef, omelet, and lettuce sandwich. The lump in his throat was growing steadily.
Maria never cooked. He knew that very well.
But she made this.
“Not bad,” Sanders’s voice sounded in front of him. “It’s actually better than burgers,” he added with relief in his voice.
Karl took another bite and nodded.
The elite man finished his second piece and turned to the maid. “Another, please.”
“Sure, Sir,” Sophie bowed and placed another set on the empty plate. “Miss Maria will be happy to hear that you like it, Mr. Sanders.”
“I think she’d prefer if Sarkon liked it,” Sanders corrected. Ignoring the glare from those perfect blue eyes, he took another bite and marveled at the taste. “She has talent.”
“She got scalded,” Karl blurted in his gruff voice.
The beast’s stunned face shot at him. “What?”
“It was just an oil bite, Sir,” Sophie hastily stepped forward to explain. “We applied ointment. She’s fine.”