The restaurant was charming in a way that I didn't expect. It was expensive, clearly, but the warmth and coziness of it made me feel at ease. The soft glow of dimmed lights, the quiet hum of conversation, and the scent of rich, mouth-watering dishes in the air made it feel like a hidden gem. I liked it—actually, I loved it.
Sylus walked ahead of me to the receptionist, who greeted him with a knowing smile.
"Welcome to La Petite Étoile. Do you have a reservation?"
He barely spared her a glance, his voice smooth and commanding as always. "Thorn," he replied, as if he'd done this a hundred times before.
The receptionist's character shifted the moment she recognized the name. Her smile widened, her eyes gleaming with new-found excitement. "Ah, Mr. Thorn," she purred, her voice switching to something more seductive. Without hesitation, she stepped closer, brushing up against him as she leaned in.
Then her gaze shifted to me, her smile tightening into something far less friendly. "Oh, and who are you, ma'am? Do you have a reservation?" she asked, her tone laced with icy disgust as her eyes swept over me in a clear, snotty way.
Before I could respond, Sylus spoke for me, his tone flat, unbothered. "She's my plus one."
Her demeanor flipped as quickly as a switch. "Oh, of course, Mr. Thorn. My mistake," she replied sweetly, her voice syrupy and full of fake warmth. She looped her arm through his without a second thought, pressing herself into him like she belonged there. I couldn't help but notice how her chest nudged his arm.
Sylus didn't react but he didn't pull away either like her obvious flirtation didn't bother him. I swallowed hard, an unexpected knot forming in my throat as I watched. He wasn't mine, but seeing the way she clung to him made my chest tighten in a way I hadn't expected.
She didn't even glance at me again, too focused on hanging off of Sylus's arm as if they'd walked in together. I followed behind, keeping my expression neutral, refusing to let her obvious attitude get to me, though the bitterness troubled me. It was hard not to feel out of place in the elegant restaurant, especially with her draped all over him.
But Sylus remained unaffected, walking with an air of calm indifference, allowing her to lead us through the softly lit restaurant to a secluded table near the window. He moved like he always did—cool, confident, and entirely in control—making it all the more frustrating to see how easily he brushed off her attention.
As we reached our table, she finally let go of his arm, though not without giving him one last sultry smile. "Enjoy your evening, Mr. Thorn," she purred, ignoring my presence altogether as she leaned forward slightly, giving Sylus a clear view of her cleavage. "If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, come find me," she added, her voice dripping with suggestion as her eyes locked onto his, practically begging for his attention.
Sylus's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk, his gaze cool as ever. "I'll let you know if I need anything," he replied smoothly, his tone carrying just the right amount of amusement to make her flush with satisfaction.
The receptionist straightened, clearly pleased with herself, and with one last lingering glance, she turned and walked off, her hips swaying a little too deliberately as she disappeared into the restaurant.
I slipped into my seat, doing my best to ignore the scene I'd just witnessed, but my mind was spinning.
A waiter appeared not long after, an eager smile on his face as he introduced himself and offered us water. He poured our drinks with the kind of care that only an expensive restaurant like this could deliver, the water flowing smoothly into our glasses without a drop out of place.
"Would you like your menus now?" the waiter asked, his voice polite and deferential.
Sylus barely glanced up. "Just one for the beautiful lady," he said smoothly, without missing a beat.
I raised an eyebrow at him, but he simply smirked and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the menu to arrive. The waiter nodded, seemingly unbothered by the unusual request, and quickly disappeared.
"So, you're picking our meal tonight," Sylus teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Are you sure you don't want any help?"
"I'll be just fine," I replied, a bit of confidence lacing my words. I wasn't about to let him rattle me—at least not so easily.
"Alright." Sylus grinned, that smile lingering on his lips in a way that made my stomach flip.
The waiter returned with the menu, handing it to me with care. I opened it, eyes scanning over the luxurious dishes, each one more tempting than the last. Everything looked so... perfect.
"Everything looks good," I commented, almost to myself, but I could feel Sylus's eyes on me.
"Does that make it hard for you to choose?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.
I bit my lip and glanced at him, then back at the menu. My fingers hovered over the pages, each choice more enticing than the last. "Can I really pick anything?" I asked, half-joking but also half-serious.
His gaze softened just a little. "Of course," he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
I looked at him, then back at the menu once more before snapping it shut. "One of everything, please," I said, handing it back to the waiter with a bright smile.
The waiter looked to Sylus for confirmation, his eyes wide with uncertainty. Sylus just chuckled, nodding. "You heard her."
The waiter hesitated for only a second before scurrying off, and I could hear the soft ripple of amusement in Sylus's laughter. He rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together under his jaw, and looked at me thoughtfully.
"You never cease to amaze me, Freya Sinclair," he said, shaking his head in mock defeat. "Alright, you win."
A victorious grin spread across my face, and I couldn't help the spark of pride I felt. I'd managed to surprise him—a rare victory, it seemed. Sylus shook his head again, a smile still playing on his lips.
Before long, a chain of waiters arrived, carrying dish after dish, each one plated with the utmost precision. My eyes widened as the table began to fill up. I hadn't expected *this* much food.
"I didn't expect it to be this much," I admitted, slightly embarrassed.
Sylus just smiled, completely unfazed. He picked up a plate of something sweet yet salty, handing it to me, before selecting something spicy for himself. "It's fine," he said, waving off my concern. "Barely makes a dent in my bank account." He nodded at the waiters, who began packing up the remaining dishes. "Send the rest over to my house."
I smiled apologetically, but he didn't seem bothered in the least. Soon, we were left alone, just the two of us, the table far less crowded now. I picked at my food for a bit, my thoughts wandering. I couldn't help but think of Valerie—her wedding, the chaos that followed... and that moment with her mother. My fork idly played with the food on my plate, but my appetite had diminished.
"Is the food not to your liking?" Sylus's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked, realizing I'd barely taken a bite.
"No, no, it's fine. Delightful, actually," I said quickly, though I couldn't bring myself to focus on the taste.
He set his utensils down, leaning back slightly. "What's wrong? You're barely eating."
I hesitated, unsure if I should share. "It's nothing," I lied, but I could tell he wasn't convinced. I sighed. "I was just thinking about the wedding... Valerie's mother, actually."
Sylus's eyes darkened for a brief moment. "That's expected," he said quietly. "It was a traumatizing experience after all."
I glanced at him. "Have you ever... experienced anything like that?" I asked hesitantly, not sure if I was overstepping.
Sylus's hand stilled, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. He dropped it onto his plate, and when he looked up at me again, there was a shadow in his gaze that hadn't been there before.
My heart sank, realizing I had touched on something deeply personal. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "You don't have to tell me anything, I—"
"I watched my mom die," he said, his voice low and heavy with pain.