When they arrived at Ninyo Fusion Cuisine & Wine Lounge, the air immediately changed. The soft glow of fairy lights tangled in the trees outside, the delicate hum of jazz slipping through the night, everything about the place whispered quiet luxury. But the moment Paul stepped out of the car, that quiet turned into attention.
The valet practically sprinted to open his door. The maître d’ straightened his tie so fast it almost snapped. By the time Mariella stepped out, half the staff had already appeared at the entrance, all smiles and bows.
“Good evening, Attorney Razon,” the manager greeted warmly, though Paul wasn’t even an attorney yet. “Your table is ready. Would you prefer the wine cellar or the garden suite tonight?”
Paul gave a polite nod. “Garden’s fine. I have company.” His ton
