The café smelled like roasted beans and quiet tension.
Lana sat across from Leo, trying not to stare as he stirred his espresso with deliberate calm. The sound of the spoon against the porcelain cup echoed louder than her heartbeat.
> "So, Lana Brooks," Leo began, resting his chin on his hand. "Are you always this clumsy, or do I just bring it out of people?"
> "Only with people who look expensive to dry-clean," she shot back, lips curling into a smirk.
His laugh was low and warm — too genuine for the man she'd been told to destroy.
They talked about little things first. Coffee preferences. Work stress. Traffic.
But underneath every casual word, Lana was studying him — memorizing his tone, his reactions, the way he avoided talking about his family or personal life.
Every detail mattered.
Because Leo Ayden wasn't just any man — he was the man her world warned her about.
And yet… he was disarmingly kind.
When he spoke about his past projects, there was a softness in his eyes — passion, not arrogance. It threw her off balance.
> "You don't talk much about yourself," she finally said, curious.
"Neither do you," he replied smoothly.
"Maybe we're both hiding something," she teased.
Leo's lips curved slightly.
> "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe we just like mystery."
There it was again — that spark.
Dangerous. Magnetic. Impossible to ignore.
As the clock struck eight, Lana realized she'd stayed an hour longer than she meant to.
Her plan was supposed to be about revenge… not connection.
> "Thank you for the coffee," she said softly.
"Thank you for the accident," he replied, his eyes lingering. "It made my day far more interesting."
As she stepped out of the café, Lana couldn't decide whether she'd taken the first step toward her revenge —
or the first step toward her ruin.