ARIA
The Carlyle Hotel is exactly what I expected—old money elegance dripping from every crystal chandelier and silk curtain. The kind of place where reservations are made months in advance, unless you're Dante Ashford.
Then they simply materialize a private dining room the moment you walk through the door.
"Mr. Ashford." The doorman practically bows. "Your mother is already seated. May I take your coat?"
Dante's hand remains firmly on my lower back as we're escorted through the restaurant. I feel eyes on us. The announcement has been live for two hours now. Everyone in this room knows exactly who I am.
Dante Ashford's surprise fiancée.
The woman who came out of nowhere to claim one of Manhattan's most eligible billionaires.
The private dining room is intimate, decorated in soft cre
