Absolute silence.
My mother looked like she’d forgotten how breathing worked.
Chloe stared.
Ethan stared harder.
And Lorenzo…
Lorenzo calmly unfolded his napkin like none of this was unusual.
Ethan recovered first.
He laughed nervously.
“No offense, Scarlet, but this joke’s getting a little out of hand.”
Lorenzo slowly turned his head.
“What joke?”
Ethan’s smile slipped.
“You two aren’t actually together.”
Lorenzo leaned back in his chair.
“No?”
“No.”
Ethan glanced at me.
Then back at Lorenzo.
Then he smirked.
“I know Scarlet.”
The room tightened.
Ethan looked at me with the same arrogance that had once convinced me he loved me.
“She doesn’t date men like you.”
Lorenzo went very still.
Dangerously still.
Then he looked at me.
Not Ethan.
Me.
“Scarlet.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what I find interesting?”
I shook my head.
His eyes never left mine.
“Men who lose something valuable,” he said quietly, “always assume it still belongs to them.”
Across the table, Ethan’s face drained of color.
But Lorenzo wasn’t finished.
He reached into his jacket and placed a thin black folder on the table.
“Speaking of interesting things.”
Ethan frowned.
“What is that?”
Lorenzo looked almost bored.
“Documents.”
Nobody moved.
Ethan opened the folder.
Then he stopped breathing.
Chloe looked over his shoulder.
And screamed.
Because inside were financial records.
Emails.
Bank transfers.
Evidence.
Proof Ethan had been stealing money from his own company for over a year.
I looked at Lorenzo.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
“You knew?”
He looked at me.
“I investigate everyone who gets close to people I care about.”
My heart skipped.
People I care about.
Ethan stood up so fast his chair crashed backward.
“How the hell—”
Lorenzo rose too.
The difference was terrifying.
Ethan looked angry.
Lorenzo looked calm.
And calm men are often the most dangerous.
He adjusted his cuffs and spoke quietly.
“Sit down.”
Ethan sat.
Immediately.
The restaurant stayed frozen.
Lorenzo turned toward me and held out his hand.
“Scarlet.”
I stared at him.
“Yes?”
A slow smile appeared.
“Dinner after this?”
And for the first time in two years—
I smiled without pretending.
