The warm atmosphere inside Molto Affamato abruptly shifted as Avilyn—still known as Lynda to everyone else—caught sight of Don's familiar silhouette entering the restaurant.
There was something different about his demeanor, something more predatory, and she knew that today would not be like any other.
She exchanged a tense glance with Kiana, who was serving a nearby table, the unspoken understanding passing between them: this was the moment they had dreaded.
As Don made his way toward the counter, Avilyn stepped forward, intercepting him before he could speak. "Don," she said, her voice carrying a thinly veiled edge of hostility, "we need to talk. Alone."
Don's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the change in her tone, but he remained calm. "Of course," he replied smoothly, though there was a dangerous glint in his gaze.