Elena’s POV
The restaurant looked different in daylight.
Last time, soft amber lighting had covered my humiliation like a warm filter. Today, harsh afternoon sunlight streamed through the wall-to-wall windows, exposing everything—the glittering chandeliers, the marble floors polished to perfection, and most of all… how little control I actually had over my own life.
And of course, there he was.
Adrian.
Black suit again, crisp white shirt that probably cost more than my monthly rent. He sat in the corner, posture straight, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. But he wasn’t alone. A younger man with glasses hovered beside him, whispering into his ear. Whatever he said made Adrian’s jaw tighten.
Great.
Perfect.
An audience for my execution.
I’d left Taylor at home—even though he’d begged
