#Chapter 168: To Be Mated

Agnes The restaurant Elijah had chosen was just a twenty-minute walk from our villa. “Here we are,” Elijah said, stopping in front of a charming little place with tables spilling out onto the sidewalk. “It’s supposed to have the best pasta and wine selection around.” “It’s beautiful,” I murmured, taking in the rustic wooden tables and chairs adorned with fresh flowers. Candles flickered in glass jars, and the string lights that were hanging overhead reflected themselves in the polished silverware. The host led us to a table nestled in a corner, offering just enough privacy while still allowing us to people-watch. I settled into my chair, accepting the menu with a smile, and tried not to balk at the prices. A few moments later, the server arrived. Elijah ordered their most expensive bottle of red, and we each ordered a decadent pasta dish as well as an appetizer to share. The server nodded, jotting down our order on his notepad. His eyes flicked up t