A figure loomed for only a moment before melting into the darkness, its purpose as unreadable as ever. Elliana didn’t flinch. She tracked it sidelong, her posture easy, her fingers never pausing on her phone. Just as silently as it had emerged, the figure slipped away—vanishing the instant it reached within five meters.
Elliana tilted her head down, flicked away the unease, and resumed her text. “Rosa’s just a name. Don’t let it mess with your head. You and I? Nothing changes.”
Hailee’s response buzzed through almost immediately. “Can I come over now?”
Elliana smiled faintly and typed back. “Absolutely. I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat.”
Hailee’s bubbly reply came. “Sure! I’m on my way!”
True to her word, Hailee burst in minutes later, slightly winded but glowing with excitement. She waved a bank card like a victory flag. “Elliana! Dinner’s on me tonight!”
Only after Elliana’s encouragement had Hailee submitted her painting, and to her shock, it had snagged a prize. Now, she wanted to celebrate the win with the person who’d pushed her to try. With a grin, Elliana agreed without hesitation. “Deal.”
Hailee linked arms with her. “Alright, your pick then. Where do you want to eat?”
Elliana tilted her head thoughtfully. “Didn’t you say your family runs a diner? Let’s head there.”
Hailee blinked in surprise. “Wait—seriously? Our diner’s in a rough part of town, on Old Willow Lane. It’s in a sketchy neighborhood and, trust me, far from glamorous. I wouldn’t take you there.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Elliana replied. “Spaghetti with red sauce, the kind your dad’s been making forever. I want that comfort food magic. Let’s go.”
Despite her reservations, Hailee gave in, and the two flagged down a cab and set off.
Elliana genuinely craved a taste of the local specialty—but that wasn’t the whole story. She wanted a chance to meet Hailee’s family, perhaps even a glimpse of her elusive boyfriend. She would assess his condition firsthand and then decide whether to reveal her discreet identity as Milena to treat him. Even though her…
? gν?
Although her feelings toward Hailee were sincere, she needed the full picture before deciding how far to involve herself.
Back at the street corner, after the cab vanished, the figure reemerged and quietly tapped out a message to Myles.
In the CEO’s office of the Evans Group, Myles’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and immediately turned to Cole. “Mr. Evans, your wife just left with Hailee. They’re heading to a diner on Willow Lane.”
Cole gave a cold laugh, lips curling with disdain. “She walks off with a billion of my money, and now she’s dining in some rundown joint? Has she no sense of class? What a disgrace.”
Myles, unfazed by the rant—he’d long grown used to Cole’s whiplash moods—responded with an easy grin and a hint of mischief in his tone. “Willow Lane might be a little rough around the edges, sure, but the vibe’s unbeatable. The food’s great—real comfort stuff. I’ve eaten there myself. Best red sauce in the city.”
Cole lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “You went to a dump like that?”
“Absolutely!” Myles responded, lying as smoothly as he breathed. “It’s worth the trip. Their red sauce hits like nostalgia. That kind of flavor? You don’t get it in those overpriced five-star restaurants. And I’m not the only one—Aron and Hugh are hooked too.”
Cole’s gaze shifted to Aron and Hugh, cold and unreadable. “Is that so? You like that place too?”
“We’ve never be—”
“Ow!” Hugh yelped as Aron jabbed a sharp pinch into his ribs, cutting him off before he could blurt out the truth.
Aron, unfazed, mustered a wide, sheepish grin. “We’re huge fans, actually. Myles got it exactly right—the food’s incredible. We were just saying we might swing by after work tonight.”
Cole had clearly caught the pinch but didn’t comment. He simply let it slide.
Myles shot Hugh a pointed glare, silencing him, then turned smoothly back to Cole. “Mr. Evans, you’ve been cooped up in your ivory tower too long. You should really get a taste of the streets—feel the pulse, try some local cuisine, and reconnect with the city.”
“That’s right!” Aron chimed in, jumping into the conversation. “You’ve been working nonstop. Come kick back with us at Willow Lane, grab a bite, maybe relax a little.”
“No!” Cole refused flatly with a sharp shake of his head. “You said she’s there, didn’t you? I’m not going anywhere near that woman.”
“You won’t see her,” Myles pressed on, his voice dripping with false assurance. “The place is bigger than you…
“Think—dozens of tables and an endless stream of people. The chance of running into her is next to nothing.”
Cole didn’t respond and just pressed his lips into a thin line.
Sensing the hesitation, Aron seized the moment. He clapped a hand on Cole’s arm, his voice warm with insistence. “Come on. The weather’s perfect. Don’t waste the night sulking in here.”
Before Cole could , Aron hauled him to his feet and steered him out the door.
Still bewildered, Hugh mumbled, “Why are you and Aron feeding him that lie?”
Myles gave him a swift kick without thinking twice. “If you’re too dumb to help, then shut up!” He shot Hugh one last scathing glare before jogging to catch up.
Grumbling under his breath, Hugh chased after them, his face a storm of annoyance and confusion.
.
.
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