It was dinner time, well a minute to go before it struck eight.
She was watching the second hand tick away until finally it reached 12 and the minute hand moved.
It was 8 but there was no sign of Salvatore. Usually he would be back home for dinner at least 30 or 15 minutes before it was the time for dinner but it could be one of those days where he was just working late.
And not to mention the fact that she had also appeared in his office to distract him from a few meetings.
Marco brought out the dinner and with the help of another maid served her before standing in the corner of the room, waiting for her commands.
Keeping her eyes on the clock, she waited until the food turned cold and Marco had to point it out.
"Would you like me to heat it up?" He asked, inching closer to her plate. "The pasta will not taste good."
She waved him away. Her mouth felt sour already. What more could cold pasta do?