Chapter 112 Her Next Move
The elevator doors slid open.
Veyra stepped out first, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She wore a simple black dress and the gloves Dorian had given her. Her hair was pulled back. Her face was composed.
Dorian followed a step behind. He wore a dark suit and a neutral expression. His hand hovered near her lower back, although it was not touching but it was close to her lower back.
Wesley Wynn was waiting near the entrance to the private dining room.
He smiled when he saw them. It was a practiced smile, polished and qarm.
"Mrs. Thorne," he said. "So glad you could make it."
Veyra’s smile was thin. "Mr. Wynn."
Dorian stepped forward. His voice was flat. "Wesley."
Wesley’s eyes moved to him. "Dorian. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for inviting us."
Wesley gestured toward the private room. "Shall we? I’ve had the kitchen prepare something special."
They walked inside. The room was elegant. Dark wood. Soft lighting. A table set for three.
Veyra sat down. Dorian sat beside her. Wesley sat across from them.
Wesley folded his hands on the table. His eyes were on Veyra.
"Mrs. Thorne," he said. "I owe you an apology."
Veyra’s eyebrows rose. "You do?"
"I sent that photograph to Dorian. It was inappropriate. I was curious about you, and I let my curiosity get the better of me."
Veyra said nothing.
Wesley continued. "I should have asked you directly. Instead, I acted like a... well, like a fool."
Dorian’s mouth twitched. "That’s one word for it."
Wesley ignored him. He kept his eyes on Veyra.
"I apologize," he said. "It won’t happen again."
Veyra studied his face. She was looking for the lie. The insincerity. She found none.
"Okay," she said.
Wesley blinked. "Okay?"
"Okay. I accept your apology."
He smiled. A genuine smile this time. "Thank you."
Dorian leaned back in his chair. His eyes were on Wesley.
"Now that that’s settled," he said. "Let’s eat."
The food arrived. Soup. Salad. Main course. Dessert.
The conversation was light. Wesley asked about Veyra’s work. She told him about SN1818. He listened with genuine interest.
Dorian watched them both. His eyes moved from Wesley to Veyra and back again.
Wesley did not look at Veyra the way he had looked at her in the photograph. His gaze was respectful. Polite. Professional.
Dorian’s shoulders relaxed. Just a fraction.
Across the restaurant, hidden behind a decorative pillar, Xiomara watched.
Her eyes were narrowed. Her hands were clenched.
She had followed them. She had seen them walk into the private room together. Veyra. Dorian. Wesley Wynn.
Her heart burned with jealousy.
She had tried to get Wesley’s attention. She had smiled. She had laughed. She had asked for a tour. He had dismissed her like she was nothing.
And now he was having dinner with Veyra.
Xiomara’s jaw tightened.
She remembered a rumor she had heard. Someone had mentioned that Wesley Wynn had a bodyguard. A tall, dark-haired man who followed him everywhere.
She looked at Dorian. His suit. His posture. The way he hovered near Wesley’s side.
He had to be the bodyguard.
Her lips curled into a smile.
So Veyra had married a bodyguard. A servant. Someone who worked for Wesley Wynn.
Xiomara’s smile widened.
She thought about what she would do once she became Wesley’s girlfriend. She would have power. Influence. Access.
And the first thing she would do was fire Veyra’s husband.
She stepped back from the pillar. Her heels clicked against the marble.
She walked toward the elevator. Her head was high. Her smile was triumphant.
She had a plan.
She would find a way to get close to Wesley Wynn. She would charm him. Seduce him. Make him forget about Veyra.
And once she had him, she would destroy everything Veyra had built.
She pressed the button for the elevator. The doors opened and she stepped inside and then the doors closed.
She was already planning her next move.