Chapter Seventy Four

Logan's POV

For the side dish, we were served Mexican rice. The rice grains glistened with a subtle sheen, hinting at the savory broth in which they had been simmered to perfection. Diced vegetables, like confetti, adorned the dish—bright pops of red from tomatoes, emerald green from cilantro, and the earthy tones of sautéed onions. The aromatic blend promised a symphony of tastes, while the fluffiness of the grains suggested a delicate balance between texture and flavor. This Mexican rice not only tantalized the taste buds but also added a visual feast to the table, embodying the essence of traditional and flavorful cuisine.

They informed us that there was dessert just as we were on the verge of concluding our meal. There was also a Tres Leches dessert for that occasion. By virtue of its ethereal attraction, the cake, which was sitting on my plate, beckoned to me. A delightful mystery was concealed within its surface, which was a canvas made of golden sponge. Each piece of the cake