Aria didn't sit.
Instead, she walked past the perfectly set table, straight into the open-air kitchen tucked beneath an ivy-covered archway. Sleek
countertops. Cast-iron pans. A tray of curated ingredients has already laid out.
She scanned it quickly. Someone — probably Dupont — had arranged it exactly the way she liked. Leon followed, unhurried. When
She glanced over her shoulder, he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her like she was the main course.
"What?" she said, already pulling her hair into a tight knot at the crown of her head. "Never seen a woman tie her hair before?"
"I've seen it," Leon replied. "Just not while looking like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're about to ruin someone's life with truffle butter."
Aria smirked. "Only if they're lucky."
