The drive to the café was leisurely, almost meditative. Aria took a deliberately longer route, letting the minutes tick by. She wanted Klein to stew, to sweat just a little before she arrived.
By the time she pulled into the lot, she was nearly forty minutes late. She stepped out of her car with deliberate ease, smoothing the fabric of her blazer as she made her way inside.
The café was quiet, its soft lighting and modern décor lending an air of intimacy that contrasted sharply with the tension simmering beneath her skin. Klein was already seated in the far corner, his posture stiff and his eyes darting toward the entrance every few seconds.
He stood as she approached, a broad, eager smile stretching across his face.
"Miss Moretti," he said, his tone overly genial as he extended a hand
