The city stretched out below them, glittering with endless possibilities. The rooftop terrace was a picture of perfection—soft golden lighting, crisp white table linens, and the faint murmur of conversation from other diners. It was exactly the kind of place Marcus preferred: polished, refined, curated for people who never had to second-guess their choices.
Isabelle had been second-guessing everything all night.
She twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, barely listening as Marcus spoke about an upcoming investment deal. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested—she usually enjoyed hearing about his work—but tonight, her mind was elsewhere.
It was still caught on the headlines. On the way Sebastian had walked past her without a word. On the silence that had felt heavier than
