The announcement came like a knife slid across porcelain—quiet, deliberate, impossible to ignore.

“We’ll host dinner tomorrow night.” Nate didn’t even look at me when he said it. He just folded the newspaper with neat, sharp movements, as if the creases mattered more than my reaction.

My hand froze halfway to my mouth, toast hovering. “Dinner?”

“Business partners.” His tone was casual, but his eyes flicked up briefly, catching the way my shoulders stiffened. “Investors. ...