The restaurant was dimly lit, the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the table. The scent of truffle and aged parmesan lingered in the air, blending with the distant hum of quiet conversations. Across from Raj, Isabella, her auburn hair cascading over her bare shoulders, watched him with an amused smile.

"So," she said, snapping a cressini in two, "you work in crypto, right? Tech stuff?"

Raj grinned. "Something like that, for the moment I lead a research programme for an investment bank."

"Mmm." She took a sip of Barollo, eyes playful. "And what exactly do you do in this mysterious world of yours?"

Raj lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Alright, let’s start with a question. Do you know what the double-spending problem is?"

Isabella raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Double spending? Like when my ex used my credit card twice without asking?"

Raj chuckled. "Kind of. But let’s say you have a digital file, like a song or a photo. You send it to me. Do you still have it?"

"Of course."

"That's exactly the point. Digital items can be copied infinitely. That’s great for music, but terrible for financial assets, your money, stocks, bonds. If money were just a file, you could send me $100, but also send that same $100 to someone else. That’s the double-spending problem. How do you make sure that digital money can’t be copied, that when it’s spent, it’s truly gone?"

Isabella tilted her head, intrigued. "And banks solve this problem how?"

"By acting as accounting intermediary. The core business of banks is accounting really. When you send money to someone, the bank updates a ledger and confirms that you no longer have those funds. But that means you have to trust the bank."

"And you don't trust banks?"

"As long as they pay my wages scrupulously," Raj smiled "but I definitely prefer systems that don’t require trust in third party accounting." He leaned in a little more, letting the weight of his words settle. "That’s where blockchain comes in. Instead of a bank keeping a ledger, the ledger is shared by thousands of computers worldwide. When you make a transaction, every single one of those computers verifies it, making sure you’re not double-spending. And once it’s recorded, it can’t be changed."

"So… it’s like magic money that no one can cheat?" Isabella ventured.

Raj grinned. "It’s not magic. It’s math."

She shook her head with a small laugh. "Okay, I get why this is a big deal for finance. But you talk about it like it’s more than just money. Like it’s… I don’t know, something deeper?"

Raj held her gaze, his voice softer now. "Because it is. It’s not just about money—it’s about truth. About finality. About the ability to make a commitment and know that it can’t be undone by someone more powerful than you. It’s the first time in history we can create digital things that are as real, as something you hold in your hand."

She studied him for a moment. "You’re really passionate about this, aren’t you?"

Raj grinned. "Let’s just say I believe in eliminating middlemen—in money, and in life."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, alright. You win. Blockchain is sexy."

Raj raised his glass. "To eliminating trust."

She clinked her glass against his. "To eliminating trust."

But as she fixed his dark eyes over the candlelight, there was something mischievous in her smile. "Except," she murmured, "some things in life are more fun when you do trust a little."

Raj grinned widely. "Touché."