The restaurant was unlike anything Scarlett had ever seen.
Private. Exclusive. The kind of place that didn't have prices on the menu because if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city lights, making the world below look like scattered diamonds. Crystal chandeliers cast everything in a warm, golden glow. The dress code was formal—painfully, intimidatingly formal.
And in the center of it all was a table that looked like it had been decorated by someone who'd taken Scarlett's Pinterest board and multiplied it by a thousand.
"Oh my god," Scarlett breathed, stopping dead in the doorway.
A tower of macarons—and she meant a tower, easily four feet tall—stood as the centerpiece. Every color imaginable, arranged in perfect spirals. Rose, lavender, pistachio, chocolate, vanilla, matcha, passion fruit.
it was a bubble tea fountain. An actual fountain, with different flavors flowing from multiple tiers like a chocolate fountain at a wedding. Jasmine, taro, brown sugar, strawberry, mango.
And the cake. Oh, the cake. Three tiers of perfection—strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting, decorated with fresh strawberries and delicate sugar flowers. Her name written in elegant script across the top tier.
"This is..." Scarlett couldn't find words. "This is insane."
"This is your birthday," Sylus said from beside her, his hand warm on the small of her back. "And you deserve insane."
The restaurant was filled with people—Sylus's men, dressed in formal suits instead of their usual tactical gear. His business associates and colleagues, all looking slightly uncomfortable but impeccably dressed. Dangerous men trying to look civilized for one night.
All here to celebrate her.
"Happy birthday, Mrs. Qin!" several voices called out.
Scarlett felt her eyes sting with tears. No one had ever done this for her. Ever. Twenty-two years of life, and this was her first real birthday party.
"Thank you," she whispered, looking up at Sylus. "This is too much."
"Nothing is too much for you." He kissed her temple. "Now go. Eat. Enjoy. This is all for you."
She didn't need to be told twice.
Shemade a beeline for the macaron tower, her red dress swirling around her legs. The dress fit perfectly—Sylus had somehow gotten her measurements exactly right. It made her feel beautiful. Confident. Like she belonged in a place this fancy.
She grabbed three macarons at once, stuffing one in her mouth immediately, and heard someone laugh.
"She's adorable," one of Sylus's associates said. "I didn't know the dragon lord had a wife."
"Neither did we," another agreed. "And she's so... small. And cute. Nothing like what I imagined."
Scarlett ignored them, too busy sampling the bubble tea fountain. She filled a cup with jasmine milk tea, took a sip, and actually moaned out loud at how perfect it was.
Sylus appeared at her elbow, looking amused. "Good?"
"Amazing." She grabbed another macaron, this one lavender. "This is the best birthday ever."
"The night is young, kitten." He gestured around the room. "Come. Let me introduce you properly."
For the next hour, Scarlett was passed around like a precious artifact—introduced to colleagues and associates whose names she'd never remember, all of whom looked surprised and charmed by Sylus's tiny, cheerful wife.
"She's so different from you," one man said, eyeing Sylus's severe expression and Scarlett's bright smile.
"That's why I love her," Sylus replied simply.
Scarlett ate through it all. Macarons, cake, dumplings, spring rolls, every appetizer that passed by. She ate like a hungry hamster storing food for winter, her cheeks often full, and didn't care one bit that she was probably breaking every rule of fancy dining etiquette.
Sylus just watched her with soft eyes, occasionally wiping frosting from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, looking utterly smitten.
The dress did fit perfectly. The red silk hugged her curves, the diamonds caught the light every time she moved, and she looked like she'd stepped out of a dream.
His dream. The one he'd been having for a thousand years.
But as the night wore on, Scarlett began to notice something.
The women.
There were several of the colleagues' wives, business associates, women whose connection to Sylus's empire she didn't quite understand. All of them were tall. Elegant. Perfect. Dressed in designer gowns that probably cost more than cars. Hair styled immaculately. Makeup flawless.
They looked like they belonged in this world. Like they'd been born to wear diamonds and navigate high society.
Scarlett looked down at herself. She was 160 centimeters—tiny compared to everyone else. Her hair was styled nicely, but it wasn't the elaborate updo most women wore. Her makeup was simple. And despite the beautiful dress, she felt like a child playing dress-up.
Out of place. Small. Inadequate.
"Your wife is lovely," one particularly stunning woman said to Sylus, appearing at his side with practiced ease. She was tall—easily 175 centimeters—with legs that went on forever and a figure that belonged in magazines. "So... petite."
The word sounded almost condescending.
"Thank you," Sylus replied coolly. "She's perfect."
"Of course." The woman smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She leaned closer to Sylus, one manicured hand touching his arm.
"I wanted to discuss the eastern territory situation. Perhaps we could talk somewhere more private?"
Scarlett felt something hot and ugly twist in her chest.Another woman appeared on Sylus's other side—just as tall, just as perfect, just as everything Scarlett wasn't.
"Sylus, darling, it's been too long. We need to catch up about the shipping routes. Maybe over drinks later?"
Darling? Who called someone else's husband darling?
A third woman joined them, completing what was starting to look like a very deliberate circle around Sylus. "The weapons deal you mentioned last month—I have some thoughts. Perhaps we could discuss them?"
They were all leaning in. Touching his arms. Standing too close. Laughing too loudly at things he said that weren't even funny.
And Scarlett stood there, holding her bubble tea, feeling smaller and smaller.
Sylus was polite but distant, clearly not interested in their attention. But they didn't seem to notice—or care. Just kept talking and touching and existing in his space like they had every right to be there.
Like Scarlett didn't exist.
Like she wasn't standing right there, watching her husband be swarmed by beautiful, tall, elegant women who probably knew how to navigate this world in ways she never would.
Scarlett's grip on her bubble tea cup tightened. The straw bent slightly under the pressure.
She wasn't jealous. She wasn't. That would be stupid. Sylus had waited a thousand years for her. Had loved her across lifetimes. Had given up everything to let her be free.
He wasn't interested in these women.
But they were interested in him.
And they were everything she wasn't.
"Excuse me," Scarlett said quietly, but no one heard her over the women's laughter.
She took a step back. Then another. Put her bubble tea down on a nearby table with more force than necessary.
One of the women—the first one, the one who'd called her "petite"—said something that made Sylus's jaw tighten. Scarlett couldn't hear what. But she saw his expression shift to barely concealed annoyance.
Good. At least he was uncomfortable too.
But he was still surrounded. Still being touched. Still the center of their attention.Scarlett was standing alone, watching, feeling ridiculous in her red dress that had seemed so perfect earlier but now just made her feel like a child playing pretend.
She looked at her bubble tea. Looked at the women. Looked at the distance between her and Sylus that suddenly felt like miles instead of meters.
And seriously considered throwing the bubble tea at one of them.
Just picking it up and launching it right at that perfectly styled hair and that perfectly made-up face and that perfectly manicured hand that was still touching her husband's arm.
It would be satisfying. Probably feel amazing for about three seconds.
Then she'd be the crazy jealous wife who threw drinks at people at her own birthday party.
She turned away instead, heading for the balcony. She needed air. Space. A moment to remind herself that she wasn't that person—wasn't the jealous, insecure girl who couldn't handle her husband being popular.
Even if right now, she really, really wanted to be.
Behind her, she didn't see Sylus's head snap up, his eyes immediately searching for her. Didn't see his expression go from annoyed to alarmed when he couldn't find her in her usual spot.
Didn't see him extract himself from the circle of women with cold efficiency, ignoring their protests as he went searching for his wife.
All she saw was the city lights below, blurring slightly as tears she refused to shed made her vision swim.
"I'm not jealous, she told herself firmly. I'm not. I'm just... overwhelmed. That's all"
But the ugly feeling in her chest suggested otherwise.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.