the orange glow of the setting sun as the
ze fixed on the faint reflection of city lights flickering across
r," Noah, his assistant,
brushed the edge of the watch face - an old h
h the muted rhythm of the city. Outside, the towering glass of the Vallero Hot
up at the entrance, the v
uit. The faintest chill of evening brushed against his skin
Mr. Th
s - elegant without being gaudy. The maître d' s
d with practiced grace.
nodded onc
- a table half-hidden by a curtain of ferns and light. It
over the other, the low hum of
t his watc
f she's smart," he mut
sages, ignored most of them, and set his phon
2 p
gn of
expression. "Jasmine Whitmore," he murmured quietly. "Your fath
ow. "Would you like to order
ook his head
nodded an
nt's entrance, where laughter and perfume
ce at his wa
atly. Then, with a faint, ironic
ingertips against his chin. "Let's see wha
e sharp planes of his f
ed 7:21, the soft click of heels
r's eyes
peccable, gaze lifting just en
one precise, low, and deliberat
ng her lips. "I prefer to arrive when I please," she
unreadable. A pregnant silence settled over the
, frosted with cold formality, "I am not here because I wish to be enterta
se," she countered, the faintest trace of amusem
int flicker of surprise behind his usual comp
to hair. "Honestly," she said slowly, a sly, mischievous note in h
er was
ace. Her pulse hammered against her ribs, but her posture remained controlled, practiced - ev
s gaze. "You're not eating?" she asked l
ithout a word. His hand was steady, precise, movements deliberate. The waiter approached soon
ghtly on the table, eyes narrowing in a manner that
, deliberate, "how long
e birth," she replied smoo
ting his head, his gaze sh
sing her features. "Chelsea," she said casually, ta
voice calm but measured. "Chelsea? I ha
tone steady, unwavering. "Near th
e even, but with a subtle e
he said, forcing
of amusement - more a test than warmth. "Hyde Park isn't in Che
er head, brushing it off. "My bad, my bad,"
t I heard... you were born in Switzerland," he said slowl