Maya's POV
The intercom chimed precisely at seven. Sebastian never arrived a minute late, not even for intimate dinners. I pressed the buzzer to grant him entry, feeling my pulse quicken as I gave myself one final glance in the entryway mirror.
The entire afternoon had been devoted to perfecting this meal, orchestrating every single element with care. The saffron risotto—his absolute favorite—sat in pristine condition, silky and luxurious exactly as he preferred it. Those two hours of patient stirring had been worth every minute, allowing the rice to drink in the aromatic broth using the technique my mother had passed down to me. Candlelight flickered across the dining table, creating an atmosphere that was elegant without being excessive, just romantic enough for the announcement I'd been rehearsing all week.
