Aiden's POV
The waiter approached, his steps perfectly measured, trained for service in a restaurant of this caliber. I didn't look up immediately, keeping my gaze on Alexia. Her posture had shifted slightly—less defiant, more calculating—as she reached for the menu. I knew what was coming.
She'd expected to be out of her depth here, thrown by the prices and the elaborate descriptions of dishes meant to intimidate the uninitiated. I'd counted on it. I wanted to see her squirm, maybe embarrass herself when she ordered something wildly inappropriate or revealed that she had no idea what a tasting menu entailed.
Instead, she surprised me.
"What would you recommend?" she asked the waiter, her tone measured and calm.
I recognized the strategy immediately. She wasn't bluffing her way through ignorance; she was playing the part, wielding composure like a weapon.
