Café Sabarsky looked like Vienna—dark wood, crystal chandeliers, elderly waiters in crisp white jackets. The kind of place where old money went to pretend they were still in Europe.
Sienna felt completely out of place.
She'd arrived ten minutes early and immediately regretted it. Now she was just sitting here alone, feeling like everyone was staring.
At exactly two o'clock, Maria Castellano walked in.
Sienna recognized her from photos—early sixties, elegant in that effortless wealthy-woman way. Simple gray dress, pearls, hair in a classic chignon. She moved through the café like she owned it.
She spotted Sienna and smiled. Tired, but genuine.
"Sienna. Thank you for meeting me." Maria sat without waiting for invitation. "I hope you don't mind—I ordered us both Sachertorte. It's the best in the city."
"That's fine."
The waiter appeared with coffee and elaborate chocolate cake. Maria waited until he left.
"I imagine you're wondering why I asked to meet you."
