As the lunch came to an end, Zayden rose smoothly, buttoning his jacket with the ease of someone born in front of cameras.
"I'll walk you out," he said, as if it were a noble gesture.
"No need," Elara replied, standing. "I remember the way out."
He opened the door anyway, gesturing with a hand. "Ladies first."
She shot him a look but stepped out.
The moment they entered the main hallway of the restaurant, heads turned.
Phones subtly tilted. Forks froze mid-air. A couple at the bar whispered urgently, pointing—not at her, but at him.
Zayden Vale.
CEO. Billionaire. Magazine cover king. Corporate fox.
And now… he wasn't alone.
Elara kept walking, trying not to stiffen as whispers rippled behind them like waves crashing into her back.
"Is that Zayden Vale?"
"Who's the girl?"
"She's stunning. Model?"
"No, no. She's not a regular."
"Wait—could that be… a date?"
She hissed under her breath, "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely," he murmured, smirking. "I don't usually bring women to public places. You should feel honored."
"Oh, believe me," she said dryly, "I'm honored to be your afternoon gossip headline."
They approached the grand glass doors, and a valet rushed to retrieve their cars.
Zayden turned slightly toward her. "I'm predicting: Zayden Vale spotted with mystery woman in cream dress. Front page. With a caption like—'Billionaire bachelor off the market?'"
She blinked at him. "You made that up just now, didn't you?"
"Guilty. I've always had a flair for headlines."
"Here's one," she said, stepping closer with a bright fake smile. "Arrogant CEO gets slapped with a lawsuit for emotional damage."
He tilted his head, amused. "Emotional damage? I thought I was charming."
"You are," she said sweetly. "In the way poison is charming in a pretty bottle."
His laughter echoed. "You're growing on me, Elara Blake."
"And you're growing under my skin."
The valet pulled up with her car first. Zayden took a step forward and, to her horror, opened the door for her.
"Don't look so alarmed," he said as she stared. "Just practicing for my husband duties."
"I hope your actual wife carries pepper spray."
He leaned slightly closer, that ever-smiling mask in place—but his voice dropped an octave. Smooth. Dangerous.
"Careful, Elara. I might enjoy that."
She stared at him for a beat. Her heart skipped for a reason she would not acknowledge.
Then she slid into the car with a huff. "Next time, try being five minutes early. It might confuse your enemies."
"Where's the fun in that?"
He shut the door with a grin, tapped twice on the roof, and stepped back. Her window rolled up, shielding her from his gaze, but not the image of him standing there—hands in his pockets, smile still intact, like he'd just won a war.
---
Back in the restaurant, whispers still lingered.
Zayden turned to the manager, who had hovered respectfully nearby.
"She's lovely," the man said carefully.
Zayden smirked. "She's dangerous."
The manager chuckled nervously. "Will we be seeing more of her?"
Zayden's eyes glittered.
"Without a doubt."