Inside the restaurant, the air was warm and filled with the hum of conversation. Perfume, wine, and the scent of roasted garlic replaced the cold rain outside.
All eyes turned toward them — the billionaire in his damp shirt and the shivering girl wrapped in his jacket.
Lena’s face flushed. “Maybe this was a mistake,” she murmured, shrinking under the curious stares.
But Ethan shook his head. “No. You saved my life. You’re staying.”
He led her to a quiet table near the window. When the waiter appeared, Ethan ordered her a hot meal — soup, bread, tea — everything on instinct.
It was the first warm food Lena had eaten in days. Between spoonfuls, she told him her story: how she’d grown up in foster care, bounced between shelters, lost her job when the diner she worked at closed. How one wrong turn had left her with nowhere to go.
Ethan listened — really listened — for the first time in a long while. He wasn’t thinking about numbers or contracts. He was simply a man hearing another human being’s pain.
When she finished, she looked down, embarrassed. “You probably think I’m crazy.”
He smiled faintly. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve met in a long time.”
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