"This," Enzo said, gesturing toward the chef who carefully placed the bowl in front of her, "is the dish I had specially prepared for you. It's meant to be savored, so don't make me regret allowing you to eat this. Understood?"
Tiara didn't answer. Her throat tightened as the tantalizing aroma wafted toward her, but her mind raced with questions. What could possibly be inside the bowl? Why had he made her wait? Her stomach churned in anticipation, and yet, there was a flicker of apprehension gnawing at her heart.
The chef lifted the lid ever so slowly, revealing the dish inside.
But Tiara wouldn't get to know its contents just yet.
She blinked in disbelief, her eyes widening as she stared at the mysterious dish before her. It wasn't what she expected at all. What was this? Was this supposed to be some kind of twisted joke? But then, she remembered who she was dealing with—Enzo was always two steps ahead, playing his own mind games.
