Greg chuckles, his tone relaxed as he flips through the wine list.
“Watch out, Adriana,” he says with a grin. “Their pasta’s famous for being hot enough to burn.”
Adriana laughs harder, clearly enjoying herself.
I smile politely, though I barely notice the scene around me.
Greg’s gaze lingers on me for a second—steady, curious—but I keep my expression composed, my focus on the basket of warm bread in front of us. I’m too practiced at ignoring looks like his.
I reach for my glass, still half-listening to Adriana’s cheerful chatter—then my eyes catch on the entrance.
And my heart stops.
Dorian.
Tall, sharp in his black suit, with that unmistakable presence that seems to claim every space he enters. His gaze sweeps the room—focused, unwavering.
I freeze for half a second, breath caught in my throat, unable to look away from him. My heart slams hard against my ribs, too loud, too fast.
He’s not here by accident.
And just like that, anger rises—hot, sharp, immediate.
Not just because he’s here, clearly looking for me.
But because I react like this.
God, I hate it.
Hate how my pulse spikes the second I see him—those familiar eyes, that quiet intensity, that impossible pull.
Greg notices the shift in my face, the flicker of tension.
“Everything okay?” he asks casually—but I can hear the curiosity there, see the way his gaze follows mine.
“Yeah. Sure” I say forcing myself to look away, shoving down the rush of emotion clawing at my chest.
But it’s too late.
Dorian’s eyes lock with mine—direct, unflinching, unblinking, cutting straight through me.
He doesn’t hesitate. He strides toward our table, every step slow, deliberate.
Adriana’s still oblivious, too caught up in her playful banter with the waiter.
But something tells me this won’t be just a polite hello.
* * *
Dorian
I move toward their table, cutting across the room with quiet purpose. No rush. No hesitation. Just the steady pull of inevitability.
I watch Della’s eyes snap toward me, wide for a split second before she shifts her expression back into ice.
I’m aware of every glance I draw, every curious look that follows me through the room.
But my focus never strays from her.
