The restaurant was exactly the kind of place Elena preferred for important meetings.
Quiet. Elegant. Expensive without needing to announce it.
Soft lighting hung above each table, casting a warm glow over the dark wood interiors. The atmosphere was refined but comfortable, with the kind of privacy that attracted people who valued discretion.
By the time Callum and Elena arrived, Evelyn Sinclair and her daughter were already seated at their table.
Evelyn was the first to stand when she saw them approaching.
She was a graceful woman in her late fifties, with soft blonde hair styled neatly around her shoulders and the kind of presence that came from years of being surrounded by influential people. She was elegant without trying too hard, dressed in a tailored cream-colored suit that look
