Ethan's POV
The restaurant glowed with golden lights and soft music, the kind of place couples came to feel special. Ethan adjusted his collar as he sat across from Lyra—her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her lips painted a deep, seductive red. She looked too perfect to be real. Too calm. Too confident.
The waiter arrived with menus, bowing slightly before handing them over.
Waiter: "What may I get for the lady?"
Lyra scanned her menu for only a second.
Lyra: "I'll have the grilled salmon… and a glass of your red wine."
Her voice was smooth, warm, almost hypnotic.
The waiter nodded and turned to Ethan.
Ethan: "Uh—yeah. Same. And water."
Lyra smiled, resting her chin lightly on her hand.
Lyra: "Copycat."
Ethan: "Just trying to match your expensive taste."
They laughed.
