Chapter 94 The Guest of a VIP
Caspian’s voice was loud in the quiet restaurant.
"Dr. Harrison will put in a good word for me. He already said he would."
Xavier Lala’s expression flickered. Just a fraction. His hand adjusted his glasses again, a slow, deliberate motion.
"Dr. Harrison," Xavier repeated. "He’s going to recommend you?"
"Personally."
Xavier said nothing. His jaw tightened. Veyra caught the movement. The slight shift in his posture. He was worried.
She understood why. Caspian had connections. Money. A manufacturing network. If Dr. Harrison pushed for him, Caspian could leap ahead of every other candidate. His company could become one of the top-tier pharmaceutical enterprises overnight.
Xavier forced his shoulders to relax. He crossed his arms. His voice was calm, but Veyra heard the strain underneath.
"The final decision rests with Grace and not Dr. Harrison or anyone else." He paused. "As long as Grace has two working eyes, she won’t choose you."
Caspian’s face darkened. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
Caspian stepped forward. Leon Wei moved to block him. Caspian stopped.
Xavier did not flinch. "You don’t have the moral character to lead a project like this. Everyone knows it. You’ve burned too many bridges."
Veyra spoke.
"Grace won’t choose him."
Both men turned to look at her.
Her voice was quiet. Steady. She did not look at Caspian but she looked at Xavier.
"Whatever he says, whatever promises Dr. Harrison makes, Grace will not choose him. I can guarantee that."
Caspian’s mouth opened and closed.
"You don’t know Grace," he said. "You don’t know what she’ll do."
"I know what she won’t do." Veyra’s voice was ice. "She won’t work with a man who has no integrity."
Caspian’s hands curled into fists. His breathing was loud. Ragged.
"You’re defending him," he said, jerking his chin at Xavier. "You don’t even know him."
"I know he didn’t grab me without my permission. I know he didn’t lie to me for years. I know he didn’t lock me in a basement." She paused. "That makes him better than you."
Caspian’s face went white.
"You’re defending a stranger," he said. "You’re taking sides against me."
"I’m not taking sides." She looked him in the eye. "I’m stating facts. And the fact is, Grace would never choose someone like you."
Caspian opened his mouth to respond. No words came.
His face cycled through colors. Red. White. Red again. His hands shook at his sides.
Xavier watched him. His expression was unreadable.
Veyra turned away. She walked toward the spiral staircase that led to the second floor. Her steps were unhurried.
Behind her, Caspian’s voice cracked.
"You’re going to regret this."
She did not look back and Caspian lunged after her.
"Caspian!"
Xavier’s voice cut through the air. Caspian ignored him. His hand reached for Veyra’s shoulder.
Leon Wei stepped into his path. His chest was broad. His face was blank.
"Step aside," Caspian said.
"No."
"I said—"
"I heard what you said." Leon’s voice was soft. "Move."
Caspian shoved him. Leon did not budge.
Xavier walked up behind Caspian. His voice was calm. "You’re making a scene."
"Mind your own business."
"I’m making it my business." Xavier stepped beside Leon. "You’re harassing a woman. In my presence. While I’m trying to have a quiet dinner."
Caspian looked at him. Then at Leon. Then at the other diners, who had stopped pretending not to watch.
"You’re both dead," he said. "You hear me? Dead."
Xavier tilted his head.
"Threats are a sign of weakness," he said. "Everyone in this room just saw you lose control. Do you think Grace wants to work with a man who can’t control his temper?"
Caspian’s fists clenched and unclenched.
"I’ll find her," he said. "I’ll find her and I’ll tell her what you did. Both of you."
He turned and pushed past them. He ran toward the staircase.
The staircase was curved. White marble. Gold railings. It led to the second floor, where the private dining rooms were.
Caspian took the steps two at a time.
Two bodyguards appeared at the top of the stairs. They wore black suits. Earpieces. They moved to block the entrance.
"Sir," one of them said. "This area is restricted."
"I need to see someone."
"Do you have a VIP card?"
Caspian’s face tightened. "A what?"
"VIP card. Required for access to the private dining rooms."
Caspian pointed up the stairs. "She doesn’t have a card. She just walked up there."
The bodyguard glanced at his partner. Then back at Caspian.
"The lady is a guest of a VIP client. She was escorted."
"Who? Who is her client?"
"I’m not at liberty to say."
Caspian’s hand slammed against the railing. The metal vibrated.
"Listen to me—"
"Sir, if you don’t have a VIP card, I’m going to have to ask you to leave."
Caspian stared at the bodyguard. Then at the staircase. Then at the empty space where Veyra had disappeared.
"Since when does she know people with VIP cards?"
The bodyguard did not answer.
"Since when does she know anyone who can afford this place?"
His voice echoed off the marble walls.
The bodyguard’s expression did not change. "I suggest you take your seat, sir. Your table is waiting."
Caspian stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs.
His phone rang but he ignored it and it rang again.
He pulled it out. The screen said Xiomara.
He answered. His voice was hoarse. "What?"
Xiomara’s voice was urgent. "Have you seen her? Have you seen Grace?"
"What?"
"Grace, Dr. Harrison is meeting her tonight. At Bordeaux 101. I just heard from Professor Sterling."
Caspian blinked. The words took a moment to register.
"No," he said. "I haven’t seen her."
"Are you sure? She could be disguised. Using a different name."
"I’m at the restaurant. I’ve been here for an hour. There’s been no one matching the description."
Xiomara’s voice sharpened. "Then where is she?"
Caspian looked up the staircase. The private dining rooms were dark. The bodyguards were still watching him.
"She’s on the second floor," he said. "I can’t get up there."
"Second floor?"
"There’s a VIP section. Restricted access. I don’t have a card."
Xiomara was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke slowly. "Who else is up there? Is there a private event?"
"I don’t know."
"What do you mean you don’t know?"
"I mean I don’t know." His voice rose. "I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs, and I can’t get up, and I don’t know who’s up there and also I met Veyra.”
"Wait," Xiomara said. "Did you say you saw Veyra?"
Caspian’s jaw tightened. "Yeah."
"Where?"
"Here. In the restaurant."
Xiomara’s voice went flat. "Veyra. At Bordeaux 101."
"Yeah."
She laughed. A short, disbelieving sound.
"Veyra doesn’t belong in a place like that. She’s probably working there. Cleaning tables. Running plates."
"She went up to the second floor."
"What?"
"With a VIP client. The bodyguards said she was a guest."
Xiomara was silent for a long moment.
"Veyra. In Bordeaux 101. As a guest of a VIP client."
"That’s what they said."
"You’re making this up."
"I’m not. She was here. She talked to me. She—" He stopped. He did not finish the sentence.
Xiomara’s voice was tight. "Who is she with? Who brought her?"
"I don’t know."
"You don’t know anything," Xiomara snapped. "Stay there. I’m coming."
The line went dead.
Caspian stared at the phone. Then at the staircase. Then at the bodyguards.
He walked back to his table and sat down.
His hands were shaking.
*
*
Xiomara slammed her brakes.
The car jerked to a stop in the middle of the street. Horns blared behind her. She did not move.
Veyra. At Bordeaux 101. As a guest of a VIP client.
The words bounced around her skull.
She had assumed Veyra was nothing. A nobody. A high school dropout who had lucked into a marriage with a bodyguard. She had laughed at her. Humiliated her. Locked her in a basement.
And now Veyra was at Bordeaux 101. On the second floor. With someone powerful enough to have a VIP card.
Xiomara’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
She thought about the connections. Who had the money? Who had the influence? Who would bring a woman like Veyra to a place like Bordeaux?
Her mind listed names. Businessmen. Politicians. Old money.
None of them made sense.
Veyra did not know anyone in those circles.
Unless—
She picked up her phone. She called Caspian and he answered on the first ring almost immediately.
"Who is she with?" Xiomara demanded.
"I told you. I don’t know."
"Think. Did you see anyone else? Did she mention a name?"
Caspian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "There was someone else. A man. Xavier something."
"Xavier?"
"Xavier Lala. He was at the restaurant. He was on her side. Defending her."
Xiomara’s stomach dropped.
"Xavier Lala," she repeated.
"Yes."
Xiomara looked out the windshield. The streetlights blurred.
She knew who he was. Everyone in the industry knew who he was. Xavier Lala ran a mid‑sized pharmaceutical company. He had been a contender for the SN1818 partnership. He was smart. Connected. Dangerous.
And he had been defending Veyra.
Xiomara put the car in drive.
"I’m coming," she said. "Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone. Stay at your table."
She hung up.
The engine roared as she pulled back into traffic.
Veyra was at Bordeaux 101. With Xavier Lala. In the VIP section. Where Grace was supposed to be meeting Dr. Harrison.
The pieces tried to clinked together in her head but they did not fit.
Veyra was nobody. A background character. She should not have been there.
But she was.
Xiomara pressed the gas. The buildings blurred past. She ran a red light.
Veyra was not just cleaning tables or just tagging along, she was there for a reason.
Xiomara’s thoughts churned.
Who would hold a VIP card? Who could afford to bring a guest?
She ran through the list of potential partners again. The shortlist was small. She had memorized it.
Xavier Lala was one of them. Caspian was another.
But Caspian was blocked at the bottom of the stairs. Xavier Lala was somewhere in the restaurant. And Veyra was on the second floor.
She was not with Xavier.
She was with someone else.
Xiomara’s hands tightened on the wheel.
It could not be who she thought. It was impossible.
Veyra did not know anyone that powerful.
But she was there. On the second floor. With a VIP card.
The only person who could have brought her—the only person who would have a VIP card and know Veyra...