Alexander’s POV
I pull into the valet parking lot of La Belle Étoile, the restaurant Cynthia’s been raving about for a while now, mentioning how she’s seen a lot about it and always wanted to try it.
She’s brought it up so many times, I’ve lost count—going on about their “exquisite dining experience” and their perfectly curated menu and luxurious ambiance
True to her word, the place reeks of prestige. The entrance alone gleams with crystal chandeliers visible through the glass doors, and the soft hum of classical music spills out as we step inside.
Cynthia’s arm wraps around mine as we walk in, her fingers curling tightly against my jacket sleeve. I resist the urge to pull away, reminding myself to maintain composure. We’re in public, and I won’t give her the satisfaction of a scene.
