Aria POV
The restaurant was called Celestine—all white tablecloths and crystal chandeliers, the kind of place where people came to be seen.
I hadn't wanted to be seen today.
Olivia sat across from me, her auburn curls pulled back in a neat bun as she stabbed at her salad with more force than necessary.
"So he's been showing up every day?" She looked up at me.
"Every single day." I cut into my salmon. "Flowers. Voicemails. Waiting in lobbies. This morning he was in the parking garage."
"That's borderline stalking." She set down her fork.
"It's definitely stalking." I took a bite, though the food tasted like nothing. "But what am I supposed to do? Call the police on a Blackwood?"
"You could get a restraining order." She reached for her water glass.
"That would make everything public." I shook my head. "The press would have a field day. 'Billionaire CEO's Ex-Wife Files Restraining Order.' My face would be everywhere."
