Not… this.

The car door opened, and a gust of warm evening air greeted me, carrying the scent of sea salt and blooming jasmine. We weren’t at a restaurant, as I had assumed, but standing before a private pier lit with hundreds of tiny lanterns. The path ahead shimmered like a trail of fireflies, leading to a sleek yacht anchored in the distance.

I turned to Roman, raising an eyebrow.

“You call this ‘dinner’?”

He gave a small, knowing smile.

“I said I’d pick you up. I didn’t ...