Half an hour later, the black custom Rolls-Royce pulled smoothly to a stop beside a quiet, tree-lined avenue.
Le Rêve had no flashy sign announcing its presence. The restaurant was tucked away behind one of the city's busiest commercial districts, occupying an elegant European-style townhouse that was easy to overlook unless you knew where to find it.
Yet the moment they stepped out of the car, the exclusivity of the place became immediately apparent.
From the doorman in a perfectly tailored tuxedo to the restaurant manager who personally came out to greet them, every detail conveyed understated exclusivity.
They were escorted directly upstairs to a semi-open private dining room on the second floor, offering one of the best views in the restaurant while maintaining an exceptional level of privacy.
Richard had spent the entire day buried in work and had barely eaten lunch. By now, his stomach was completely empty.
He ordered a generous portion of M9 Wagyu tenderloin with black truffle sauce, along with several French side dishes: pan-seared foie gras with fig compote, baked escargot topped with cheese, creamy mushroom-baked scallops, and buttery mashed potatoes.
The man cut into his steak with effortless elegance.
Meanwhile, Elena's famous dessert arrived at her place with almost ceremonial precision.
The chef himself wheeled over a dessert cart.
Wearing white gloves, he took out a specially designed truffle shaver and slowly shaved a prized Alba white truffle over the ice cream. Each delicate slice fell like fresh snow onto the top, releasing an intensely rich and distinctive aroma.
Dark red Burgundy wine-soaked cherries were arranged on the side, finished with a thin layer of edible gold leaf that shimmered faintly beneath the warm lights.
Elena had heard about the terrifying price of white truffles, which were sold by the gram.
And judging by the elaborate presentation alone, she could tell that this tiny bowl of ice cream probably cost more than an ordinary person earned in several months.
She carefully scooped up a small spoonful and put it into her mouth.
The rich, velvety creaminess of the premium ice cream blended with the unmistakable flavor of white truffle—a strange yet luxurious combination of earthy aroma and subtle nuttiness.
Then came the sweet-tart flavor of the wine-soaked cherries, with just a hint of bitterness.
The flavors exploded across her palate.
Elena's eyes immediately lit up.
She wasn't a die-hard dessert lover, and she'd tasted plenty of different sweets before, but she'd never experienced anything with so many layers of flavor or such an extravagant texture.
Her cheeks puffed out slightly as she ate, looking almost like a little hamster completely absorbed in her food.
She was thoroughly enjoying the five-figure dessert.
Richard finished the last piece of steak and swallowed it slowly before picking up his white napkin and gently dabbing the corner of his mouth.
His gaze crossed the table and settled on the girl eating opposite him with obvious satisfaction.
Elena kept her head lowered.
With every movement of her spoon, the collar of her fine blue-striped shirt shifted slightly, revealing a small portion of her pale, delicate neck and the clean line of her collarbone.
Her lips were soft and naturally glossy, catching the warm light.
“Your dancing was good.”
Richard's deep, smooth voice broke the silence without warning.
Elena had just taken another spoonful of ice cream and froze.
“Hmm?”
It took her a few seconds to realize he was probably talking about the video.
“You saw it?”
Richard lifted the glass of ice water beside him and took a sip.
His deep-set eyes remained fixed on her, reflecting the warm, subdued lighting of the private dining room.
His long fingers rested around the glass, his thumb idly brushing over the condensation gathering on its surface.
His tone was calm, yet there was something quietly commanding about it that made it difficult for her to look away.
“Yes.”
Seeing the slightly stunned expression on her face, the corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.
“It was beautiful.”
The three simple words sounded unexpectedly intimate in his low voice.
A faint current seemed to run straight through her.
Heat crept up Elena's ears, and her fingers curled slightly around the silver spoon.
After a brief moment of surprise, she gathered her courage and looked up.
Her bright, watery eyes met his.
Then, half teasing and half testing the waters, she threw out a deliberately suggestive line.
“If you liked it… I can dance whatever you want next time.”
The words had barely left her mouth before the atmosphere in the private room seemed to warm by several degrees.
Elena immediately realized how suggestive that sounded.
It almost sounded as though she were offering some kind of private service that definitely wasn't about dancing.
But that really wasn't what she'd meant.
She had simply been talking about dancing.
The realization made her cheeks burn. She had clearly spoken without thinking.
She was just about to explain herself when Richard let out a quiet laugh.
It was brief, carrying the effortless amusement of a man who was completely in control of the situation.
“Is that so?”
His long fingers casually rotated the glass in his hand.
“Westbridge's most famous campus beauty doesn't just dance for anyone, does she?”
Elena was caught off guard by the way he turned her own words back on her.
She puffed out her cheeks.
“That hardly counts as ‘just anyone.’ The earrings you gave me this morning alone are worth more than what some celebrities make for a single appearance…”
Richard's gaze deepened.
His eyes lingered on her full, glossy lips for a brief second before he spoke, his tone carrying a faintly suggestive edge.
“If something that simple is enough to buy a performance from you, then I suppose I got quite a bargain.”
Elena's heart skipped another beat.
She had absolutely no idea how to respond.
So she simply lowered her head and concentrated on the expensive white-truffle ice cream in front of her.
But as she continued eating, her movements gradually slowed.
Premium ingredients meant a considerable amount of fat and calories.
Although Elena hadn't eaten much starch at dinner, the food from the dining hall hadn't exactly been light, and she'd also had soup.
She was already about three-quarters full. She'd burned off some energy afterward, but she wasn't particularly hungry anymore.
And she simply didn't eat very much in the first place.
Elena poked at the ice cream with her spoon, looking increasingly troubled.
If she didn't finish it soon, the precious white truffle would lose its texture, while the gold leaf would end up sinking into the melting cream.
“What is it?”
Richard noticed her hesitation and raised an eyebrow.
Elena looked up sheepishly.
“I'm getting a little full… But if I don't finish it soon, it'll melt. It feels like such a waste.”
Richard was about to tell her that it was hardly a problem.
But then he saw the way she was staring at the ice cream, as if it were some priceless treasure.
The words on the tip of his tongue suddenly changed.
“This is easy to solve.”
Elena froze for a second.
For some reason, her mind immediately went in a completely different direction.
“…Are you going to finish it for me?”
Richard's hand paused as he reached for his water.
Silence settled over the private room for several seconds.
What he'd actually meant was to have the restaurant manager bring over a liquid-nitrogen cooling plate to slow down the melting.
But—
Instead of correcting her, the man leaned back in his chair and looked at her with an amused, knowing smile.
“What do you think?”
Elena's eyes widened.
“You don't mind?”
Richard: “…”
“Why would I?”
“Maybe I've been watching too many dramas lately…”
Elena shrank back slightly, her voice getting quieter.
“The CEOs in those dramas are always like this. They're all ridiculously particular about cleanliness.”
Richard was completely speechless.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“I’m the chairman of the Sterling Consortium, not some CEO.”
He looked at her calmly.
“CEOs work for me. If I’m not satisfied with them, they’re out.”
Elena blinked.
Richard leaned back into his chair.
“So next time you watch those ridiculous dramas, enjoy them for what they are. Just don’t take everything you see on screen seriously.”
Before he finished speaking, he naturally reached across the table and took the delicate crystal bowl of ice cream from in front of Elena.
Elena watched in disbelief as he casually took the silver spoon from between her slightly stiff fingers—the very spoon she'd just used.
Elena: “?!”
She was completely stunned.
Richard used the same spoon to scoop up a generous bite of ice cream mixed with white truffle, completely unfazed by the fact that she'd just used it.
Then he put it into his mouth without the slightest hesitation.
The silver spoon lightly touched his perfectly straight teeth before he gave it the faintest bite, producing a tiny metallic click.
Elena: “!!!”
Her scalp practically tingled.
Richard swallowed the ice cream and casually rested the spoon against the rim of the bowl.
Then he raised his eyes.
His dark gaze locked onto the girl sitting opposite him, her cheeks flushed bright red.
“Not bad.”