Chapter 204 Wesley’s Unexpected Question
The entrance of Bordeaux 101 always looked like something straight out of a glossy magazine and a hostess stood behind a beautiful marble podium. Her smile was neat and professional, and her eyes scanned everyone who walked past with sharp attention.
Veyra stepped inside and walked right up to the podium.
"Good evening," the hostess said in a smooth, practiced voice. "Do you happen to have a reservation for tonight?"
Veyra did not say a single word. She simply reached into her bag, pulled out the smooth black card, and laid it right on the counter.
The moment the hostess saw the card, her eyes widened in pure shock. Her professional smile shifted instantly, transforming into something much warmer and far more polite.
"Of course, Ms. Solenne. Right this way, please," the hostess said, bowing slightly.
She did not ask any questions or try to slow her down. She just guided Veyra through the main dining room, past the tables filled with laughing guests, underneath the sparkling crystal chandeliers, and toward the quiet private rooms at the back.
Veyra followed closely behind her.
As she walked, she could feel it in the air.
It was power. It was pure privilege. It was the strange, sudden way people looked at her completely differently just because of a piece of plastic and metal. Doors opened without a struggle, and tiny obstacles simply vanished out of her path.
She had spent her whole life being ignored, overlooked, and pushed aside by everyone around her. People walked past her as if she were invisible.
But now, holding this card, she was suddenly someone important.
She finally began to understand why people craved power so badly. She saw why folks chased after money and built massive business empires. It was not really about the cash itself. It was about the access it gave you. It was about the respect in people’s eyes and the ability to move through the world without having to explain yourself or face endless questions.
She understood it all too well now.
Wesley Wynn was already waiting inside a quiet private dining room.
When she pushed the door open, he stood up right away. His smile was warm, open, and genuinely friendly.
"Veyra," he said, stepping forward. "I am really glad you could make it."
She walked over to the table and set a small white bakery box down gently.
"I brought some dessert," she said, her voice a little quiet. "Egg tarts and some scones."
Wesley raised one eyebrow in mild surprise. "You brought me dessert?"
"I was not entirely sure what you liked to eat," she explained. "I thought something simple would be nice."
A tiny flutter of nerves bounced around in her chest.
Wesley was a wealthy man used to high end cuisine, Michelin starred restaurants, private chefs, and fancy imported ingredients.
She had bought those egg tarts from a small, ordinary bakery right near her new shop. They tasted wonderful, but they were definitely not luxurious.
She worried for a second that he would look down on them. She feared he might just offer a polite, fake smile and quietly push the box aside without touching a thing.
Instead, Wesley opened the white box with genuine interest. He picked up one of the egg tarts and took a bite.
His eyes opened wide with surprise.
"This is really good," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "Actually, it is amazing."
Veyra blinked in disbelief. "You are just saying that to be nice, right?"
"No, I am not just saying that," he insisted, taking another bite. "Honestly, this tastes just as good as the pastries our private chef makes."
Veyra felt a sudden wave of warmth spread all through her chest.
She had not realized how badly she needed a simple compliment today. She needed a genuine reaction from someone who actually appreciated the little bit of effort she put in.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Wesley smiled warmly. "No, thank you for bringing them along."
He waved his hand toward the chairs. "Please, sit down. Have you had any dinner yet?"
"Not yet," she admitted.
"Let me order some food for us."
He picked up the menu, called the waiter over, and placed an order for several dishes. Then he turned his attention back to her.
"What would you like to drink?"
"Watermelon juice, please."
He nodded and told the waiter. A moment later, the waiter walked away to prepare everything.
For a brief second, Veyra’s mood felt much better.
The sweet egg tarts, Wesley’s kind reaction, and the friendly tone in his voice had lifted her spirits.
Then her mind drifted right back to Dorian.
She thought about the cup of milk tea she had made for him, the way he had tossed it straight into the trash can, and the clumsy lie he told about the essential oil. She thought about the endless cold war between them and the frustrating silence that followed.
Her mood crashed right back down.
Wesley was smart, and he noticed the sudden shift in her face. He tilted his head to the side.
"Something is bothering you," he noted.
"It is nothing really."
"Come on, it is clearly not nothing. You look upset."
She kept her mouth shut and stared at her napkin.
"Is it something going on with the shop?" he asked.
"No."
"Is it about Dorian?"
Veyra stopped breathing for a second and looked straight up at him.
Wesley leaned back in his leather chair with a knowing look in his eyes.
"I honestly thought you might have come here to tell me something completely different," he said.
"Like what?"
"That you changed your mind about things. That you finally want to step up and be the deputy leader of the Ravenwood Society."
Veyra shook her head firmly. "No, that is not it."
"Then why are you really here tonight?"
She took in a long breath to steady her nerves. "I came here to ask you about Dorian."
Wesley raised both of his eyebrows in total surprise.
"Dorian?"
"Yes."
"What on earth could you want to know about him?"
She hesitated because the words felt awkward in her mouth. She had no idea how to explain her situation without sounding foolish.
"I need to know more about his romantic situation," she finally managed to say.
Wesley stared at her as if she had lost her mind.
"His romantic situation?"
"Yes."
He stayed totally quiet for a few seconds. Then he let out a short, surprised laugh.
"Veyra, you are his legal wife."
"I know that."
"And you are sitting here asking me about his past romance?"
"I know how ridiculous it sounds out loud," she muttered.
Just then, the waiter returned to the private room.
He placed a tall glass of fresh watermelon juice in front of Veyra and set a glass of red wine down for Wesley before slipping out of the room quietly.
Wesley picked up his wine glass and took a slow sip. His eyes looked thoughtful.
"Sit down and relax," he told her gently.
She sat back in her chair.
"You have not eaten any dinner yet, and that is not good," Wesley said, looking concerned. "You are pregnant, Veyra. You need to take care of yourself and eat regular meals."
Right on cue, the waiter knocked and came back inside carrying several plates of food. He set down warm appetizers, fresh salads, and a bowl of steaming soup.
Veyra looked at the dishes sitting in front of her, and her stomach suddenly let out a loud rumble. She had not realized how starving she actually was.
"Go ahead and eat," Wesley encouraged.
She picked up her fork and started eating.
The food tasted wonderful. It was warm, comforting, and filled her up nicely.
Wesley did not push her or ask any more questions while she ate. He just gave her the space to finish her meal in peace.
When she was finally done, she set her fork down neatly on the empty plate.
"Wesley," she said softly, looking across the table. "Please. I really need to know."
He set his wine glass down and looked right back at her.
"What is it you want to know so badly?"
"About Dorian. His past history, his old relationships, and his current romantic situation."
Wesley studied her face for a long moment, reading every little expression and he let out a tired sigh and leaned back in his chair.
The door opened again, and the waiter returned one last time.
He cleared away the empty dinner plates and placed a small dessert bowl on the table. Inside was a rich chocolate mousse topped with a fresh strawberry.
Wesley pushed the small bowl toward her.
"Eat your dessert first," he said calmly. "Then we will talk about everything."
Veyra picked up the small spoon and took a bite. The chocolate was sweet, smooth, and melted right on her tongue.
Wesley waited patiently until she finished the last bite of the mousse.
Then he finally spoke up again.
"Veyra," he said quietly. "Before I answer any of your questions about Dorian, I need to ask you a question."
She looked up at him, confused. "What kind of question?"
"Have you ever seen the famous ballet called Swan Lake?"