Dahlia's POV
The afternoon had begun with brilliant sunshine streaming through the windows, but now storm clouds rolled across the sky with alarming speed. Within minutes, rain hammered against the glass, transforming the peaceful day into something ominous.
"Soren, take a seat. Dad should arrive any moment," Eddie announced, his voice cutting through the sudden tension that filled the air.
The private dining room screamed wealth and refinement. Massive windows stretched from floor to ceiling, showcasing the stormy landscape beyond like a dramatic painting. Every detail spoke of money and power, from the crystal chandelier to the mahogany table that could seat twelve.
Soren's hand found the small of my back as he guided me toward the polished table. A uniformed server moved with ballet-like precision, preparing coffee with movements so graceful they seemed choreographed. Her every gesture radiated the kind of training that only the most exclusive establishments provided.
