Chapter 28
The Maybach pulled into Aurelia's underground garage.
The moment Lawrence stepped out, he started walking.
Fast.
With his long legs and brisk pace, Emma nearly had to jog to keep up.
She stared at his tall, distant back.
What is his problem now?
By the time they entered the restaurant, Lawrence seemed to have regained his usual composure.
"You find us a table and order," he said coolly. "I'm going to the restroom."
"Okay."
A server led Emma to a table by the window.
It was already past the dinner rush, so the restaurant was relatively quiet. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering lights of Nance City, while soft music played in the background.
"Here's the menu."
"Thank you."
Emma opened it casually.
Then stopped.
Her eyes widened.
She stared at the price.
Then at the steak.
Then back at the price.
One hundred and eighty-five dollars?
For a steak?
Emma narrowed her eyes at the menu.
Did the cow have a trust fund?
Meanwhile, Lawrence stood in front of the restroom mirror.
He leaned closer.
Left.
Right.
Up.
Down.
He carefully inspected his nose from every possible angle.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Lawrence finally straightened.
It must have come off when he'd wiped his nose in the car.
Good.
If Emma had seen something like that—
his image would've been destroyed.
She probably hadn't.
Satisfied, Lawrence washed his hands and left the restroom.
He spotted Emma the moment he returned to the dining room.
She sat by the window, her chin resting lightly against one hand as she gazed out at the city.
Lawrence slowed.
Warm light traced the delicate lines of her profile. Her back was straight, her posture effortlessly elegant.
She wasn't doing anything.
She was simply sitting there.
And somehow, he couldn't look away.
"Did you order?"
Emma turned at the sound of his voice.
Her face immediately softened into a smile.
"Yeah. I ordered some of their signature dishes. I hope you like them."
"That's fine."
Lawrence pulled out the chair across from her.
Emma studied him for a second.
Interesting.
He seemed to be in a better mood.
Billionaire moods really were one of life's great mysteries.
Outside Aurelia, Ryan stopped walking.
"No."
Adrian turned around.
Ryan pointed toward the restaurant.
"You go in. I'm staying out here."
He had already participated in the car chase.
He had witnessed the tissue attack.
He had watched Adrian publicly accuse another grown man of having a booger.
That was enough.
He was not voluntarily entering whatever romantic disaster was waiting inside.
Adrian glared at him.
"Then wait here."
"Gladly."
Adrian walked through the doors alone.
"Good evening, sir. Table for one?"
Adrian didn't answer.
His gaze swept across the restaurant until—
there.
His eyes lit up.
He pointed toward Emma.
"I'm with them."
At the table, a basket of warm bread had just arrived.
Emma picked up a piece.
Before she could take a bite, a familiar voice came from beside her.
"What a coincidence."
Emma froze.
Lawrence looked up.
Adrian stood beside their table with a cheerful smile.
"You guys are eating here too?"
Emma:
"......"
Lawrence's expression immediately darkened.
"Mr. Mercer."
"Adrian?"
They spoke almost at the same time.
Adrian didn't seem bothered by either reaction.
"Mind if I join you?"
It sounded like a question.
Unfortunately, his body had not waited for an answer.
He had already pulled out the chair beside Emma and sat down.
Lawrence stared at him.
"Mr. Mercer, there are plenty of empty tables."
Adrian looked around theatrically.
"Are there?"
There were.
A lot.
Adrian turned back with a perfectly straight face.
"Well, you two are already eating. What's one more person?"
Then he smiled at Lawrence.
"Right, Mr. Vance?"
Lawrence said nothing.
His expression said plenty.
Adrian ignored all of it.
Under normal circumstances, Lawrence would've had no problem telling an unwanted guest to leave.
But Adrian wasn't some random stranger.
He was the sole heir to the Mercer family.
Turning this into a public confrontation wasn't worth it.
Emma, meanwhile, sat between them in growing discomfort.
Suddenly, the expensive dinner didn't seem nearly as appealing.
Great.
Adrian's lost his mind too.
A server approached with the first dishes and paused when he noticed the extra guest.
"Would you like to add another entrée?"
"No need," Adrian said immediately.
He pointed toward Emma.
"I'll share hers."
Emma:
"......"
No.
Absolutely not.
There were many things Emma Carter could tolerate.
Someone stealing her food was not one of them.
"If you're hungry, order your own."
Adrian grinned.
"Fine."
He turned to the server.
"I'll have whatever she's having."
The server's eyes naturally moved toward Lawrence.
Lawrence sat across from them, his expression dark enough to lower the temperature of the entire restaurant.
After a moment, he gave a stiff nod.
The server wisely disappeared.
When the steaks arrived, Emma had barely picked up her knife when Adrian reached for his.
"I'll cut it for you."
Emma looked at him.
"I have hands."
Adrian wasn't discouraged.
"Okay. I'll pour your water."
Lawrence:
"......"
Should he leave?
Was that what Adrian wanted?
Should he simply hand over the entire table while he was at it?
Another dish arrived.
Adrian's eyes lit up.
"Oh, these are good."
He picked up one of the glazed chicken bites.
"You love these, don't you?"
Before Emma could answer, he held it toward her mouth.
"Here."
Emma:
"......"
The food was already there.
Almost by reflex, she took a bite.
Adrian immediately looked pleased with himself.
Emma finished chewing and glared at him.
"Mr. Mercer."
"Yes?"
"Eat your own food."
Adrian smiled.
"Okay."
Emma turned back toward her plate.
Then—
another chicken bite appeared in front of her.
She looked up.
This time, it was Lawrence.
He held the fork with long, elegant fingers, his expression perfectly composed.
"Have another."
Emma stared at him.
Lawrence stared back.
Well.
He was the client.
The client was paying.
And paying clients deserved excellent service.
Emma opened her mouth and ate it.
Adrian's expression immediately collapsed.
Emma swallowed.
"Okay. That's enough."
She looked between the two men.
"You two eat your own food."
Adrian looked furious.
Lawrence calmly took another bite of his steak.
The tension between them could've cooked it a second time.
Adrian's phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered irritably.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice came through.
"Adrian? It's Trace."
Adrian stabbed a piece of steak with his fork.
"What?"
Trace paused at his tone.
"I need to tell you something about Emma Carter."
Adrian stopped.
"What about her?"
"She's seeing two men at the same time."
Trace glanced at Isabelle beside her.
"You probably don't know this, but she's Lawrence Vance's girlfriend."
Adrian shoved the steak into his mouth.
"I know."
Trace froze.
"What?"
"I know."
Adrian glanced across the table at Lawrence.
Then at Emma beside him.
"We're having dinner together right now."
Trace:
"......"
"So it's none of your business."
He hung up.
Trace slowly lowered her phone.
Isabelle looked at her.
"Well?"
Trace stared blankly ahead.
"I think..."
She paused.
"I think all three of them are together."
Isabelle blinked.
"What do you mean, together?"
Trace gave her a meaningful look.
Silence.
Isabelle:
"......"
What the hell had happened while she was overseas?
Emma hadn't eaten all day.
And yet somehow—
she was full.
Painfully full.
Because these two lunatics would not stop feeding her.
Every time Adrian offered her something, Lawrence seemed to take it as a personal challenge.
Every time Lawrence gave her something, Adrian immediately found something else.
Emma had somehow become collateral damage in a war she didn't understand.
Several women at nearby tables kept sneaking glances in her direction.
Two gorgeous men.
One woman.
Both of them feeding her.
Absolutely shameless.
Completely inappropriate.
And, more importantly—
By the time dinner finally ended, Emma felt like she'd eaten enough for three days.
Lawrence paid the bill with an expression dark enough to frighten the credit card machine.
Outside the restaurant, both men spoke at exactly the same time.
"I'll take you home."
Emma looked from Adrian to Lawrence.
Then took one small step toward Lawrence.
"Okay. Thank you, Mr. Vance."
Adrian's face fell.
Lawrence's expression visibly improved.
He looked down at her.
"Mr. Vance?"
Emma blinked.
Then remembered.
Oh.
Right.
She immediately smiled up at him, her voice turning soft and sweet.
"Baby."
The corner of Lawrence's mouth lifted.
Barely.
But definitely.
Emma turned.
Adrian had punched the tree beside the restaurant entrance.
"Emma!"
His eyes were practically on fire.
"Don't call him that!"
Emma stared at him.
Then turned around and continued walking with Lawrence.
Adrian:
"......"
"AHHHHH!"
He punched the tree again.
Ryan, who had been peacefully waiting outside, rushed over and grabbed him.
"Okay! Okay! Stop fighting the landscaping!"
"She called him Baby!"
"I heard you!"
"I hate that word!"
"I'm sure the word is devastated."
Adrian tried to go after them.
Ryan dragged him back.
"Didn't we agree on strategy?"
Adrian looked at him, his eyes red with frustration.
"What strategy?"
"The strategy where you stop acting insane and give her some space."
Adrian looked genuinely miserable.
"But I want to see her."
Ryan's expression went flat.
"Control yourself."
"How?"
"Figure it out."
Adrian stared after the departing Maybach like an abandoned puppy.
Ryan sighed.
This was going to be a long night.
When they reached Emma's apartment building, she stepped out of the Maybach and turned back toward Lawrence.
"Good night, Baby."
Lawrence paused.