The golden afternoon sunlight glinted off the tall windows as Anastasia and Caroline stepped out of the black SUV, their heels clicking softly against the polished concrete of the boutique district in downtown Manhattan. There, nestled between a row of elegant glass-fronted buildings, stood the commercial space Caroline had been eyeing for months. The location was impeccable—prime, with an abundance of foot traffic and a clientele of upscale women who spent more on a handbag than some earned in a month.
Anastasia tilted her chin up, scanning the building with calculating eyes. "It's perfect," she said, hands resting on her hips.
Caroline's heart thudded in her chest, her voice momentarily stuck in her throat. "You really think so?" she whispered.
Anastasia turned to her, arching a brow. "Do you trust me or not?"
"Of course I do. You're just... too calm about this. It's making me nervous," Caroline breathed, wringing her fingers together.
