Aria's POV
Another knock, more insistent this time.
"Ms. Smith?" A woman's voice filtered through the heavy wood. "Room service."
I frowned, pushing myself up from the sofa. I hadn't ordered anything yet. Maybe it was some kind of welcome amenity? Victor had connections everywhere—maybe he'd called ahead?
I crossed to the door and peered through the peephole. A young woman in the hotel's crisp uniform stood there with a large covered cart.
Taking a breath, I opened the door. "I'm sorry, but I didn't order—"
The words died as she wheeled the cart into the suite with practiced efficiency. When she lifted the silver domes, my breath caught.
It wasn't just room service. It was a *feast.*
A5 wagyu beef with truffle butter, Boston lobster tail with herb sauce, fresh cav
