Ares did not answer. He didn't need to.
His gaze had already shifted—slow, deliberate—to the entrance of the restaurant.
The glass doors parted smoothly, held open by two waiters in crisp white linen shirts, their posture rigid with the kind of discipline reserved for high-profile guests.
And then she walked in.
Lara.
Beside her was Yannis Fenn.
Ares felt it before he understood it. Something about her had changed.
There was no hesitation in her steps now. No searching. She seemed even more self-assured.
Yannis leaned slightly toward her as he spoke, animated, confident. His hand hovered near the small of her back—not touching, not claiming—but close enough to suggest he could if he wanted to.
The private room Ares had chosen was designed for discretion. Tinted glass walls allowed those inside to see everything, while outsiders saw nothing but a reflective surface.
And Ares saw them the moment they crossed the threshold.
The shift in him was immediate.
