Lana’s POV
He asked me that morning if I would come.
“Maison Moreau dinner tonight,” he said casually, standing in the doorway of my office. “Would you like to join?”
The question was too careful, too calm, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. He wanted me there.
I didn’t even lift my head from my papers. “No. I think you can handle it.”
A beat of silence followed. Then his voice, even smoother: “Very well.”
And that was the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
The hours ticked by, but my mind was restless. I replayed the way Celeste Moreau had looked at him during the meeting. The gleam in her eyes, the tilt of her smile, the deliberate bend of her body every time he spoke. She hadn’t been subtle. And Artemis hadn’t noticed — or pretended not to.
I told myself it didn’t matter. That what h
