Chapter 148 - 147 The Proposal
*** EMILY ***
Sharing a meal with a violent crime boss completely ruins the appetite.
We step into the private dining room of Lumiere. The heavy mahogany door clicks shut behind us, sealing us off from the main restaurant corridor. The space is incredibly opulent. A massive crystal chandelier hangs from the painted ceiling. The warm light reflects off the polished silver cutlery and pristine crystal water glasses arranged meticulously on the round oak table. The room smells heavily of expensive roasted truffles and rich red wine.
Silas walks straight toward the table. He moves with a predatory, arrogant confidence, his expensive but poorly tailored suit shifting awkwardly across his broad shoulders. He stops next to a plush velvet chair and pulls it out with a flourish. He pats the upholstered backrest, offering me a wide, entirely too charming smile.
"Have a seat, Emily," Silas says. He gestures to the empty chair directly to his right. "You drove a brutally hard bargain today. You earned the best seat in the house."
I look at the offered chair. Sitting right next to him puts me entirely inside his personal space. I refuse to give him that kind of physical access. I turn my head slightly and look at Zoe. She stands awkwardly near the doorway, clutching her canvas purse tightly against her chest. Her dark bob hides the nervous tension tightening her jawline.
"I think I will sit next to Zoe," I reply smoothly. I walk past his offered seat and pull out two chairs on the exact opposite side of the round table. "We need to discuss the interior design plans for the new shop. You can take the seat across from us, Silas."
The smug smile drops from his face instantly. He stands frozen for a brief second, his hand still resting on the back of the rejected chair. A flash of clear dissatisfaction hardens his dark eyes. He does not like being denied, especially in front of his own men.
He swallows his pride. He pushes the chair back into place and walks around the table, dropping heavily into the seat directly opposite mine.
I sit down. Zoe immediately takes the chair right next to me. She slides her purse onto the floor and exhales a long, shaky breath. The heavy tension radiating from her body lessens just a fraction.
"Thank you," Zoe whispers, keeping her voice incredibly quiet. She reaches under the table and gives my wrist a quick, grateful squeeze. "I did not want to sit anywhere near him."
"You are perfectly safe," I whisper back. I offer her a reassuring smile, projecting an absolute calm I do not entirely feel. "We just need to get through this lunch. Then we secure the keys and never have to deal with him again."
A waiter dressed in a crisp black uniform enters the room. He moves with practiced, silent efficiency. He pours iced lemon water into our crystal goblets and hands us thick, leather-bound menus. I pick up my glass and take a slow sip. The freezing water is a welcome relief against the lingering heat of the Asuir City afternoon.
Silas ignores his menu completely. He leans back in his plush velvet chair, resting his arms on the armrests. His gaze drifts away from me, landing on the entryway of the private room.
Leo stands right inside the closed mahogany door. The massive security guard remains perfectly still. He wears his pitch-black tactical gear, his broad shoulders and towering height making the spacious dining room feel suddenly cramped. His hands rest casually near his waist, but his dark eyes constantly monitor every single movement Silas makes.
"I have a question," Silas announces. He points a thick finger directly at Leo. "Why is your husband just standing there like a decorative statue? The table is large enough. Tell him to pull up a chair and eat with us."
I stop with the rim of the water glass touching my lower lip. I blink, processing his bizarre statement.
He still thinks Leo is my husband.
The misunderstanding from the sidewalk outside the medical university suddenly clicks into perfect focus. Silas saw a giant, intimidating man shadowing my every move. He heard the local rumors about my desperate escape from the Vance family arranged marriage. He simply added two and two together and arrived at the completely wrong mathematical conclusion.
I place my crystal glass back onto the table. I look at Silas, keeping my expression perfectly neutral.
"You are deeply mistaken," I clarify. I gesture toward the door. "Leo is not my husband. He is a security operative."
Silas furrows his brow, leaning forward slightly. "He is not the guy you married?"
"No," I say simply. "Leo is an employee. He works directly for my husband."
Silas processes this new information. He looks back and forth between me and the silent bodyguard. A slow, highly mocking grin begins to stretch across his rough features. He scoffs loudly, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.
"Your husband sent one of his subordinates to guard you?" Silas asks. He lets out a harsh, arrogant laugh that echoes aggressively against the velvet walls. "What kind of coward sends a glorified bouncer to do his job? The man cannot even manage a simple commercial lease negotiation on his own. He hides behind a hired gun because he is terrified I might actually harm you."
I stare at Silas. The sheer, blinding irony of his statement is almost physically painful.
He is calling Alistair Wolfe a coward. He is mocking the ruthless CEO of the Wolfe corporate empire, a man who controls global tech industries and operates a lethal syndicate in the shadows. Alistair could erase Silas Hunt from the Asuir City registry with a single, untraceable phone call. Yet here sits a small-time street thug, proudly inflating his chest and calling a billionaire a frightened loser.
I do not defend Alistair. I do not offer a single word of correction. I simply let a quiet, serene smile touch the corners of my mouth. The ridiculousness of the situation is highly entertaining.
Leo does not share my sense of humor.
I glance toward the doorway. Leo has not moved a single inch, but his entire demeanor has shifted drastically. The muscles in his thick neck are entirely rigid. His jaw is locked so tightly the bone presses sharply against his skin. His dark eyes narrow into dangerous, lethal slits, glaring a hole directly through Silas. Leo is fiercely loyal to Alistair. Hearing a petty criminal insult his employer is a massive offense. My quiet smile only deepens his obvious displeasure.
Silas completely ignores the lethal glare radiating from the doorway. He misinterprets my serene smile as a sign of agreement. He thinks I am unhappy with my imaginary, cowardly husband.
He leans his elbows on the oak table, closing the physical distance between us as much as the furniture allows. His dark eyes lock onto my face. The mocking arrogance vanishes, replaced by a sudden, intense seriousness that immediately puts me on high alert.
"You deserve significantly better than a weak man who hides from the world," Silas says. His gravelly voice drops an entire octave, attempting to sound intimate and persuasive.
Zoe freezes in the chair next to me. She slowly lowers her menu, her dark eyes widening in pure horror.
"I am a man who operates in the real world," Silas continues. He rests his chin on his folded hands. "I know exactly who I am, Emily. I am a criminal. I run illegal rackets. I have done plenty of terrible, violent things to secure my territory in this city. I will never deny my nature."
I stare at him, completely baffled by this sudden, unprompted confession of his criminal record.
"But I respect strength," Silas says. His gaze turns incredibly intense, burning with a strange, possessive heat. "You stood in that pizza shop and pressed a loaded gun against my skull. You did not flinch. You looked me right in the eye today and stripped three hundred thousand dollars out of my pocket without breaking a sweat. You are fearless. You are absolutely brilliant."
I reach for my water glass. My throat suddenly feels incredibly dry. I need a distraction from this bizarre conversation.
"I have completely fallen for you," Silas declares.
I take a large sip of the freezing lemon water. The liquid sits heavily in my mouth.
"Divorce him," Silas instructs me. His tone is entirely serious, lacking a single ounce of hesitation. "Leave that useless husband of yours today. Walk away from him and stay with me. I control this entire district. I have more money than you could ever spend. I will spoil you rotten, Emily. You will never have to fight for anything ever again. I will give you the entire world."
My brain short-circuits. The sheer absurdity of the proposition hits my system like a physical shockwave.
I lose complete control of my reflexes.
I spit the freezing ice water directly across the pristine oak table. The liquid sprays violently over the polished wood, narrowly missing his expensive suit jacket.
I drop the crystal goblet. It clatters loudly against the table, spilling the remaining water over the white linen napkins. I begin coughing rapidly, choking on the liquid caught in the back of my throat.
Zoe jumps in her seat. She immediately grabs a dry cloth napkin and begins patting my shoulder, her face a mixture of absolute panic and extreme confusion.
"Are you okay?" Zoe asks, her voice rising in pitch.
I hold up a hand, nodding as I try to catch my breath. The coughing fit slowly subsides. I wipe my wet chin with the back of my hand. I look across the table at the local syndicate boss. He sits perfectly still, looking slightly annoyed by my messy reaction, but his intense, romantic proposition still hangs heavily in the air.
He is completely serious.
I stare at him. My eyes are wide with utter, profound disbelief. I look at his slicked-back hair, his flashy suit, and the arrogant expectation shining in his dark eyes.
"Are you joking?" I ask incredulously. My voice cracks loudly in the quiet dining room. "Please tell me this is a ridiculous prank."
Silas frowns. The rejection registers immediately on his rough features. "I do not joke about these things, Emily. I am offering you a real life. A life with a man who can actually protect you."
I let out a harsh, breathless laugh. The idea of trading a contractual marriage with a billionaire CEO for a romantic relationship with a street-level extortionist is the most hilarious, unhinged concept I have ever heard. He thinks he is offering me a massive upgrade. He genuinely believes he is the prize in this scenario.
I wipe the remaining water from the table with a napkin, shaking my head. I have navigated corporate saboteurs, abusive family members, and hostile relatives, but dealing with the romantic delusions of a crime boss is an entirely new level of exhausting.