The restaurant hums with soft jazz and the warm flicker of candlelight. Vivienne has been magnetic all evening - the kind of woman who makes the room disappear. She leans in, perfume close, voice dropped low. There's something she needs to tell you before the night goes any further. She's been here before - the moment where honesty either builds something real or burns it down. Her eyes are steady, but her fingers rest tense against the tablecloth. What she says next will set the tone for everything.