The restaurant looked like a scene from a dream, or maybe a place even dreams couldn't imagine.
She paused at the door for a second, in disbelief of what she was looking at.
The head waiter guided her through the main entrance, past tables where men in fancy suits and women in elegant jewelleries just sat enjoying the scenery.
When she got to their set table, near the window showing the city's lights, she felt like she didn't belong there.
Her black dress was nice but simple, the kind of beauty made with work, not money. But, the way the candle's light shone in her eyes gave her a calm glow that didn't need anything extra.
She sat down, trying to steady her shaky hands. Every little sound of glass, every quiet laugh from nearby tables felt too fancy for her. She looked at the empty chair across from her and released a sigh of worry.
What am I doing here? she wondered. Why did I agree to come?
But even as she questioned herself, she knew exactly why.
Because it was him who asked.
The sound of footsteps made her look towards the door. And there he was.
standing.
Ambrose Romero, looking perfect in a well tailored suit, with a faint shade of stubble on his face. He walked confidently like he owned the place. People subtly turned as he passed, but he didn't seem to notice rather he just didn't care.
When their eyes met, Nadia's heart skipped a beat.
He smiled slightly. She couldn't look away as she held her breath.
He got to the table and pulled out the chair across from hers.
"I hope you haven't been waiting long," he said, his voice calm.
"Not at all," she said.
her voice a bit fast, showing how hard she's trying to hide her nervousness.
Ambrose sat, and everything around them seemed to quiet down. A waiter showed up almost right away, pouring wine into their glasses before going back.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't bad, but full of curiosity and something else Nadia couldn't name.
She picked up her glass, trying to break the silence.
"This place umm… it's really beautiful."
Ambrose smirked.
"It's one of my favorites. I hoped you'd like it."
"I do,"
she said softly, then smiled, a little awkwardly.
"I don't know but it feels like the type of place I should've worn a fancy gown to."
"You look perfect just the way you are."
Nadia just closed and opened her eyes, feeling her face get warm. She quickly looked down, acting like she was looking at her plate, even though her food wasn't there yet.
Her heart did it again, beating faster.
Calm down, she told herself. He's just trying to be nice. That's all he's doing.
They talked, or tried to talk. Ambrose asked about her triplets, and how she stayed calm in an office that broke weaker people.
He really listened, but his eyes, which were sharp and attentive, didn't show much of what he felt.
Nadia, on the other hand, realized she was looking at him too much. Something about how calm he was didn't seem... real.
Every word he said was careful and planned, like he had everything prepared.
And past the mirage in put up, she saw something colder, a darkness that didn't belong in offices or candlelights.
Finally, she put her glass down and looked him in the eye.
"Who are you, really?"
He was a bit surprised, the question caught him off guard.
"Ehem… I think my name is still Ambrose Romero."
"I'm serious." She said it quietly
"You're not like anyone I've ever met. You walk through that company like you built it yourself. You have this chip on your shoulders… People don't just look at you; they're scared of you. And last week, I saw men with guns go into your office after you."
He didn't say anything.
Nadia leaned in a little, speaking softer.
"You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."
Ambrose looked at her, really looked at her, like he was trying to figure out what her knowing might cost him. Then, he sighed softly and put his wine glass down.
"You shouldn't ask questions if you don't want to know the answers, Nadia."
She caught her breath.
"Go ahead and tell me."
His eyes became softer, but his voice remained calm.
"I'm not just the person who employs you," he finally said.
"The company, the fancy clothes, the meetings are only part of my life."
She waited without moving.
"I have other things I do. Other things I have to take care of. I'm... not someone you should trust easily."
A cold feeling went through her chest
"What kind of things do you have to take care of?"
He stopped for a moment.
Then, with a hint of giving in, he said: "I run a group. One that doesn't follow the law."
Nadia opened her mouth a little, showing she didn't believe it.
"You're,"
"A mafia boss," Ambrose said for her, not changing how he spoke.
For a moment, the air between them was silent.
Nadia looked at him, not knowing what to say. She wanted to laugh, to say it wasn't true, to tell herself it was a joke, but the serious look in his eyes made her fear it wasn't.
"You're serious," she whispered.
"I always am." He said.
"So why are you telling me this right now?"
Ambrose sat back in his chair, and his face showed nothing again.
"It's because I want you to know something. The night we first met wasn't an accident. Nothing about it was."
The air in her chest felt like it was getting thinner.
"What are you trying to say?"
He looked at her, steady and not changing his eyes.
"I knew who you were way before you dropped that coffee on me. I already thought you would be helpful."
"Helpful?" "How?"
"I have a job for you, Nadia," he said softly.
"There's an agreement we have to make happen, a meeting with a different group. I need a person who won't cause people to be suspicious. Someone who is graceful, careful, and trustworthy."
Nadia couldn't think clearly for a second,
"You want me to? You must be joking."
"I'm not," Ambrose said, still looking right at her.
"And before you say no, remember this, I wouldn't ask if I didn't believe that you were able to do it."
She shook her head a little, flustered by what was happening.
"You brought me here to be your accomplice in crime?"
Ambrose took a sip from his wine and paused.
"I brought you here because I have faith in you… you're not like everyone else."
Her heart raced, partly because she was mad, and also because she was scared, she felt tricked.. felt betrayed.
She only knew that the man across from her, the one she had danced with, laughed with, and maybe even started to like, was not just her boss or a gentleman.
He was something totally different.