Vaughn glanced around, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Dinner," he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. He turned to the rest of the group—Ryle, Jannie, Ivan, and Alexei—and nodded. "Let's get something to eat. I know a place."
The group drove a few blocks through the city's quieter streets until they reached a cozy, upscale restaurant tucked away in a charming corner of the neighborhood. The sign above the door read "La Petite Maison," its soft, golden light inviting them inside. Vaughn pushed open the door, holding it for the others as they entered.
The interior of the restaurant was warm and inviting, with soft lighting, elegant décor, and a low murmur of conversation. A hostess greeted them with a welcoming smile and led them to a round table near the back, offering a bit of privacy from the other diners.
