DINNER DATE
By the time Janis stepped into the sleek black car Hermes drove, she was already running behind. The ride felt endless, even though the restaurant was close. When they finally arrived, she was forty minutes late.
"I'm sorry for wasting time," Janis apologized as soon as she saw Adrian sitting at a reserved table. Hermes followed closely behind her.
Adrian's eyes were sharp. "You're late." His tone was cold, clipped. He despised waiting, and she had made him wait far too long.
"I know. And I'm sorry," Janis said sincerely. She knew guilt; she could taste it in her mouth.
Adrian didn't soften. "Why sit down without explaining why you're late?"
Janis shifted nervously as she lowered herself into the chair. "Because… I received your message late. And it took me time to change."
Adrian leaned back, his jaw tightening. "But it didn't take you long to invite your bodyguard to our date." The word slipped from his lips, and he immediately regretted it.
Janis arched a brow. "Date? You didn't say it was a date. The text you sent was too formal—I thought this was work-related. Like a dinner meeting."
"Why would I invite you to a work dinner?" Adrian asked, glaring past her at Hermes.
Janis noticed. She waved Hermes away. "Wait for me outside." Then she turned back to Adrian, irritation flickering in her eyes. "I was wrong to come late, but you don't get to scold me for bringing Hermes. He's my bodyguard."
Adrian's lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained cold. "If it was truly a date, you wouldn't need a bodyguard."
Janis inhaled sharply. "Look, Adrian… I really am sorry for coming late. If I'd known it was a date, I would've come on time."
That was a lie. If she had known, she wouldn't have come at all.
Adrian leaned in, his voice low and magnetic. "What will you do to make it up to me?"
Her heart jumped. "I… I don't know."
His eyes glinted dangerously. "Why don't we finish what we started at the office?"
The office. That kiss. Janis had pushed it out of her mind, buried it deep. Until now.
"I… I can't do anything with you. It's not what I want," she stammered.
"But that day, you kissed me with so much force," Adrian teased, his tone velvet smooth. "You clearly wanted me."
Her chest tightened. "You must be mistaken," Janis said firmly, though her voice betrayed her.
Adrian's lips curved as he slowly ran his tongue over them. Janis swallowed hard and gulped water hastily, her cheeks burning.
"Maybe I was mistaken," he murmured. "Why don't we try again so I can be sure?"
Her pulse raced. She was about to lose her composure when an elderly man in a chef's outfit approached, his grin broad.
Janis nearly sighed in relief.
"Adrian, you've really outdone yourself this time. Your wife is truly beautiful," the man said warmly. Janis blushed, lowering her gaze. Adrian smiled faintly; he liked when she acted shy.
"My name is Monsieur Macron, and this is my restaurant," the man continued, kissing Janis's hand gallantly.
Adrian's face darkened instantly. The death glare he sent Macron could have killed.
"My name is Janis Wya—"
"Pedro," Adrian cut her off sharply.
Janis froze.
"Janis Pedro," he said firmly. "Don't ever forget that."
Macron chuckled, amused. He had never seen Adrian this possessive—not even with Vivian.
"Oh, I forgot," Janis said sarcastically, narrowing her eyes. Adrian ignored her.
"Now that she's here, you can bring our order," he told Macron, who nodded.
"Our order?" Janis asked, annoyed. "I didn't order anything."
"I ordered for you," Adrian said simply.
"Why would you do that? Do you even know my preferences?"
"Yes," Adrian answered smoothly. "You like food made with love. And Macron has plenty of that."
Janis huffed. "You act like you know everything about me."
Waiters soon arrived, carrying an array of dishes. The aroma filled the air, and Janis's irritation melted as her eyes widened. Her lips parted in awe as the food was laid before them.
"I hope you enjoy," Macron said proudly. "You are the first guests to dine here, so I made it extra special."
"We'll enjoy it," Janis assured with a sweet smile.
When Macron left, Adrian leaned closer, watching her. "I thought you wouldn't like it."
Janis plucked a shrimp and popped it into her mouth with delight. "Who said I wouldn't? I was just testing you—to see if you knew your wife."
Adrian chuckled, a rare sound. He couldn't stop staring as she devoured her meal.
"Why aren't you eating?" Janis asked, licking her fingers.
"Because your eating habits disgust me," Adrian said flatly.
Janis grinned slyly. "Liar. My eating habits are sexy." She picked up a crab leg, cracked it open, and sucked it with deliberate slowness.
Adrian's throat bobbed as he tried to look unaffected, but his fingers tightened around his fork. Who knew his wife could be this infuriatingly seductive?
"Eat," Janis teased. "Because I'm not cooking when we get home."
With a low laugh, Adrian finally picked up his fork. Still, his attention lingered on her lips more than on the food.
"Were you that hungry?" he asked.
"You wouldn't understand how exhausting today was."
"Staying on the couch all day must be difficult," he teased, smirking.
Janis nearly choked but covered quickly. "Yes. Couch." She forced a laugh.
They ate in silence for a moment before Janis spoke again. "Do you know Querra Wolf?"
Adrian raised a brow. "Querra Wolf?"
"She was an actress under Winstone Lux Media Group."
Recognition flickered. "Ah. Yes. Cecilia wanted her for Hornby desperately."
Cecilia. He never called her mother.
"Why?" Janis pressed.
"No idea. At first I thought she was Robert's mistress. But after an investigation, I found out she once saved him from a car accident."
Janis stilled. "A car accident?" Planned or coincidental?
"Why are you asking?" Adrian asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I love her movies," Janis lied smoothly. "Finding out she worked with the Pedros makes me feel closer to her."
Adrian nodded, but he was studying her. Janis sipped her wine, hiding the turmoil inside.
Querra Wolf. She was getting closer. And no one—not even Adrian—could stop her from uncovering the truth.