Emma hesitated at the sight of Darius’s expression—his jaw set, eyes dark with purpose.
For once, she didn’t follow.
The café was quiet, filled with the warm hum of soft music and the rich scent of roasted coffee beans. From the top floor, the city stretched endlessly beneath the wide glass windows, bathed in golden afternoon light.
I held my cup, but my fingers were cold. Passing me, Darius sat in a perfectly tailored suit, his presence commanding as always—sharp, composed, impossible to read.
We sat there in silence for what felt like forever. The only sound between us was the faint clink of porcelain and the low buzz of conversation from nearby tables. By the time he finally spoke, my coffee had already gone cold.
“Rae,” he said evenly, his voice calm but carrying that familiar, cu
