The lunch had been a delicate dance of vanity and thinly veiled barbs. As the sun began to dip, casting long, golden shadows across the terrace of L’Ermitage, Vivienne signaled for the waiter. She was ready to leave the suffocating cloud of Chloe’s envy and the talk of "strategic mergers." She wanted to be back in the driver’s seat of her Lamborghini, where the only voice she had to listen to was the roar of the engine."The check, please," Vivienne said, reaching for her designer handbag.The waiter, a young man who had been hovering nervously near their table all afternoon, bowed his head slightly. "Actually, Miss Blackwood, the bill for your table has already been settled in full."Vivienne froze, her hand halfway into her bag. Beside her, Chloe’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline."Settled?" Vivienne repeated, her voice cooling. "By whom? My father didn't mention sending anyone—""Not your father, Madame," the waiter said, stepping aside and gesturing toward a dimly lit corner of
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-02-20 Mehr lesen