The luxury restaurant's soft lighting cast a golden glow across our table. I sat across from Sebastian Sinclair—billionaire, mysterious power player, and apparently, the buyer of my mother's bracelet.
What do you say to someone who casually dropped three hundred million dollars on your family heirloom?
"Thank you" seemed pathetically inadequate.
I fidgeted with my napkin, searching for words. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire. Sebastian seemed perfectly content to wait, his posture relaxed as he sipped his wine.
"I'm not very good at small talk with billionaires," I finally admitted.
Sebastian's lips curved slightly. "And how many billionaires have you had small talk with, Ms. Shaw?"
"Counting you? One."
His smile deepened, transforming his stern features. "Then you have no basis for comparison."
I laughed despite myself. "Fair point."
Sebastian set down his glass. "Tell me about the bracelet."
