The restaurant was quiet, dimly lit, with the kind of atmosphere that made every word feel like a secret. Xavier sat at the corner table, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as a blade. He was dressed down tonight...no tie, no suffocating three-piece suit...just a fitted black shirt and a jacket thrown over the chair. Everything about him screamed calculated ease, but beneath the surface, his mind was a battlefield.
Sandra walked in fashionably late, strutting as though she owned the room. She was dressed in crimson silk that clung to her body like temptation itself. Her lips carried the same shade, her eyeshadow dark enough to turn every glance into an unspoken challenge.
She reached the table, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor, and tilted her head with a smirk.
"I must
