The drive was smooth, a silent symphony of city lights streaking past the tinted windows.
Logan's hand rested casually on the wheel, his posture relaxed, but his eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—kept drifting toward Rachel.
Not often. Just enough. Fleeting glances that said more than any carefully chosen word could.
Rachel caught one of those looks and allowed herself a faint smile.
He's really trying tonight.
Maybe he was more invested than he let on. Or maybe… he was simply better at pretending than she ever gave him credit for.
They arrived at Étoile, a rooftop restaurant perched above the heartbeat of the city.
From the outside, it didn't look particularly grand, but once the elevator doors opened, it was like stepping into a dream suspended above reality.
Soft golden light bathed the space in warmth.
Panoramic windows offered an endless view of the skyline—skyscrapers glittering like glass giants and, below, the city pulsing like a river of lights.
