The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a florist, its windows fogged from the steam of early lunch rush.
Celeste waved the second Aria stepped inside, her smile bright enough to make Aria's chest ache.
"You look… different," Celeste said as they hugged.
"Different how?" Aria slid into the booth.
"Your clothes. Your hair. Even the way you walk. It's like you've been… upgraded."
Aria forced a laugh. "That's what happens when you work around money all day."
Celeste tilted her head. "So this job… you still haven't told me exactly what you do."
"I told you, I'm working for a… high-profile client." She kept her tone light, careful. "Lots of contracts, events, that sort of thing."
Celeste stirred her tea, her gaze steady. "You mean like the gala I saw in the news?"
Aria's fingers froze on her cup. "You saw that?"
"It was all over my feed. You were with him." Celeste's voice dropped. "Darius King. Aria… what are you doing with him?"
Her pulse thudded in her ears. "It's complicated."
Celeste leaned in. "Complicated or dangerous?"
The question hit harder than it should have.
Before Aria could answer, her phone buzzed on the table. Unknown Number. She swiped to read the message:
> Your lunch is over in ten minutes.
No name. No signature. But she didn't need one.
Aria slipped the phone back into her bag, her smile tight. "I have to go soon. Work thing."
Celeste's brow furrowed. "Already? We barely talked."
"I'll make it up to you," Aria promised, standing. "I just… can't be late."
Outside, the winter air cut sharp against her cheeks. A black sedan was parked at the curb, engine idling. The back window rolled down, and Darius's gaze found hers — cool, unreadable.
She slid into the seat without a word.
"Enjoy your lunch?" he asked.
"Are you tracking me now?"
He didn't answer, which was answer enough.
As the car pulled away, Aria stared out at the passing streets. It hit her then — she might be wearing a wedding ring, but the bars around her life were invisible, and they were closing in fast.