It had been a week since Raymond first invited Sofia to dinner—and she turned him down. Now, another message had arrived.
The late afternoon light slanted low across the pavement as Sofia exited the building, casting golden streaks across the polished glass façade. She walked steadily, head high, even as the knot in her chest tightened with every step toward the waiting car.
She had hoped—foolishly, maybe—that Adam would be waiting for her tonight. Or at the very least, that he'd text. Even a cold, clipped message would have been enough. Something like, "Busy. Dinner another time."
But there was nothing.
Not a word.
Only the man by the car door—Caiden, silent and steady, his hand already on the handle.
"Ma'am," he greeted respectfully as he opened the door.
She climbed in, carefully smoothing the front of her dress, pretending not to feel the small storm brewing inside her. The door shut with a quiet finality, muffling the noise of the world outside.
