Madisyn and Belle sat at their table, the soft hum of chatter and the clinking of silverware filling the air. They were half-listening to the conversation of the girls next to them when something shifted in the atmosphere. A sudden stir rippled through the outdoor restaurant. Following the girls' gazes, Madisyn and Belle turned in unison, just in time to catch sight of someone walking toward the exit.
There he was—the one and only Ethan. His confident stride parted the curious onlookers like waves. Even though he was wearing sunglasses and a hat pulled low over his brow, his attempts at disguising himself were futile. His magnetic presence was unmistakable, and the paparazzi, as always, were hot on his heels. They swarmed around him like moths to a flame, shoving microphones in his face, shouting questions in rapid-fire succession.
"Are you here with someone?" one of them barked, aggressively pushing a mic toward him.
"Where did you go today?" another pressed.
