Aria’s Pov
The restaurant buzzed with the usual weekend crowd—brunch-goers sipping on mimosas, forks clinking against porcelain plates, and soft laughter weaving through the background noise. But my attention was locked on the entrance.
And then, I saw them.
Nicole. Jenna. Liv. My girls.
Three hurricanes walking into a room—effortless, loud, and completely unapologetic.
Before I could react, I was engulfed in a hug—Nicole’s arms tight around me, her silky black bob brushing against my cheek. She smelled like expensive perfume, the kind that lingered even after she left the room. “Do you know how much we missed you?” she huffed, pulling back just enough to scan me from head to toe. Her sharp brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “Look at you. Hair done. Nails done. Dripping in money. You
