Chapter 69
Elliot walked into the café like he'd been there a hundred times, heading straight for a private nook in the back.
The room was already alive with quiet chatter. People lounged in deep leather chairs or along the bench-lined walls, warm light spilling from hanging bulbs overhead. The scent of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air—rich, earthy, and oddly calming.
Vincent was stirring a cappuccino when he spotted Elliot. He grinned and called out, "Well well, who pissed off our dear Mr. Grant this time?"
Heads turned in unison to look at Elliot. Same unreadable, handsome face as always.
No expression meant no joy—but also no trace of anger. So how the hell did Vincent always know when someone had gotten on his bad side?
Then again, they weren't Vincent. The guy had known Elliot forever; he could get away with teasing him. The rest? Not so much.
Elliot sank into the seat beside him. Vincent gave a quick nod to the barista behind the counter, a young guy in a black apron and rolled-up s

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