"The spicy tuna crispy rice, extra crispy." She closes the menu with a snap. "And a bottle of the Dassai 23. Two glasses."
The server bows and retreats.
I lean back in my chair, studying her. "You didn't hesitate."
"I've been coming here since I was sixteen." She unfolds her napkin, placing it across her lap. "Lorenzo brought me for my birthday. I cried into my miso soup because Papa had been dead for three years and I still expected him to walk through the door."
The casual way she mentions her grief catches me off guard.
"You don't talk about him much. Your father."
"Neither do you." She meets my gaze. "Talk about yours, I mean."
The server returns with the sake, pouring two perfect measures before disappearing again.
Vittoria lifts her glass. "To fathers who shaped us. For better or worse."
I raise mine to meet hers. The crystal chimes softly.
"To fathers," I echo.
We drink.
The sake warms my throat, but Vittoria's expression cools the heat.
She sets her glass down. Traces the rim with one finger.
"I've been thinking," she says.
Nothing good ever follows those words.
"About us." She looks up, and there's something careful in her eyes. Measured. "About how this is all happening."
My jaw tightens. "What about it?"
"It's not normal, Dmitri."
"We're not normal people."
"That's not what I mean." She leans forward, elbows on the table. The green of her dress catches the low light, making her skin glow. "I asked for three months. Remember? Three months to learn each other. To talk. To figure out if we're actually compatible or if this is just—" She waves her hand. "Chemistry. Attraction. Whatever."
"We're compatible."
"You can't know that."
"I know it." I reach across the table, catching her hand before she can pull away. "I've known it since the gala. Since you ran from me like I was something to fear and I realized I'd chase you to the ends of the earth if that's what it took."
She doesn't pull her hand back. But she doesn't soften either.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Her voice stays steady. Calm. The voice she uses when she's working through a problem. "You knew. At the gala. You knew who I was, what family I belonged to, probably what I had for breakfast that morning. And I knew nothing."
"No, that moment?—"
"Let me finish."
I close my mouth. Though she's going to regret that later while I'm deep inside her sweet pussy.
She pulls her hand free, folding both hands in her lap. Creating distance.
