The tea party had ended in bitter chaos.
Alicia had been quiet throughout the entire ride, still visibly fuming even as the car pulled under the mansion’s grand porte-cochère.
When the chauffeur stepped out and opened her door, she snapped, “Close the door.”
The door was promptly shut.
She immediately ordered the chauffeur to drive to her favorite restaurant instead.
From a tea party straight to a restaurant, Great!
Armin leaned back into the plush leather seat.
He had been ignoring her too.
For someone who casually auctioned people off just to fund a new addition to her massive handbag collection, she sure was a good owner.
His mouth twitched upwards, he was secretly sulking.
The girl he had been intimate with less than a day ago only saw him as a pleasure toy.
She had meant it literally when she called him a toy, but he hadn’t realized it until now.
He had grown up advising Archer that sex was sacred and shouldn’t be done just for pleasure, but now he couldn’t say much for himself.
His mind drifted back to the stranger.
Did that man take him for a one-night stand too, discarding him the moment he was satisfied?
Surely!
But Madam Margaret had said the client bought him, so why was he returned?
Probably because he didn’t meet the man’s sexual standards.
The car came to a halt.
They walked into the restaurant with Alicia leading the way.
A waiter in a sharp black suit and bowtie welcomed them at the entrance.
Inside, the soft plucking of a harp matched the moody, dark ambiance.
Waiters moved with silent precision, pulling out their chairs at a prime table right next to the massive, seamless picture windows.
The waiter then offered them the menu on a leather folio.
Alicia ordered a few items with strange names without even glancing at the pages.
Her gaze was locked straight ahead, her posture stiff.
Her usual effervescent energy was completely gone.
She wasn’t chatting loudly and nonstop; her typically annoying, high-pitched voice was muted.
Armin watched her as she stared out at the beautiful view of the city skyline, her expression entirely blank.
Soon, the food arrived.
Armin looked on in absolute awe as the dishes were set down.
In the center of each plate sat a miniature garden, encircled by a ring of green oil.
Served alongside the meals were two glasses of pink blossom cocktails.
The waiter gave a small, respectful bow and glided away.
Armin had seen a lot of things and heard of wealthy people doing crazy things, but he had never heard of people driving all the way to a luxury restaurant just to eat flowers.
He watched as Alicia took a delicate bite of the plated garden.
Her face instantly lit up, her mood elevating as she savored the taste.
Armin sank back into his chair, avoiding the table altogether.
He had survived all that drama and violence at her tea party only to be served flowers like a goat?
Hell no!
Why couldn’t wealthy people function like normal human beings?
Was living normally a taboo for them?
“Why aren’t you eating?” her voice cut into his thoughts.
“I’m not eating flowers, Alicia.”
“This isn’t flowers, it’s tuna tartare,” she said, looking completely bewildered.
Armin picked up the gold-rimmed fork and stabbed at the tiny arrangement.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
“Rest of what?” She took a sip of her cocktail, set it back down, and continued eating.
Why was it taking her forever to finish a meal that’s a single bite of food?
And who eats decorations for dinner?
With portions like this, his stomach would be grumbling in a hungry protest before two in the morning.
She pointed at the plate with her fork.
“Where’s the rest of it?” he repeated.
She looked at him, confusion etching across her features.
“Are they running out of ingredients?” He stared at the untouched plate, leaned back into his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m not eating that.”
She watched him, her mouth still chewing.
Was he sulking?
“It tastes really good, try it.”
“I’m not a goat, I’m a kitten.
You said it yourself,” he retorted, turning his head away.
“Kittens don’t eat flowers, now do they?”
Alicia giggled, her mood shifting.
“You are so cute.” She set her plate aside and stood up, moved her seat closer to his, and picked up his cutlery.
Cutting a small piece of the tartare, she held it up to his mouth.
“Try it.
It’s really good.”
He looked at the fork, then at the food, and back at her face.
“Hell no.
You go ahead and eat it all if you love it that much.”
“Come on, open up.
If you keep sulking, you’ll miss out on all the good stuff.”
The good stuff?
he thought.
Oh well.
He might as well try it if she was being this persuasive.
He took the bite, hesitating for a moment as the cold food sat on his tongue.
He slowly began to chew, looking into her face and trying to trust her.
Suddenly, his expression turned bitter.
He grabbed a cloth serviette and spat the food right into it.
He shouldn’t have trusted a crazy rich girl who threw parties where slaps were given out as souvenirs.
“It tastes like shit,” he retorted, thoroughly displeased.
“No, it doesn’t,” she argued.
He snatched his pink drink, using it to rinse the awful taste from his mouth.
“You’re just being sensitive.
This is the good stuff, kitten,” she said, gently clinking her fork against the porcelain plate.
“Oh yeah?
Well, enjoy all of it.
I want to go back home.”
“I’ll order something else,” she promised, her tone persuasive as her hand reached up to playfully pinch his cheek.
He saw it coming and backed away.
“Forget it.
I’m sure all your ‘good stuff’ tastes the same.”
“How?” She seemed genuinely interested in his complaint now.
“Like fucking suffering.”
She let out a genuine laugh, her sweet smile finally returning to her face.
“That’s not true, kitten.
You’re exaggerating.”
He rolled his eyes and ignored her.
She signaled the waiter over and asked for a different menu.
She tried to order another dish, but Armin stopped her.
He had seen what her culinary taste was capable of; if he gave her a second chance, she would unfailingly fail him again.
He snatched the folio from the waiter and scrolled through the options.
His face contorted into a mix of confusion and fury.
“Is this a joke? This chapter is updated first at g.com.
What even is this?” He looked up from the page, glancing between the waiter and his crazy host.
“Is this an encyclopedia?”
She blinked her wide eyes at him.
“I just want something normal to eat, Licia,” he muttered, his voice tightening as if he were on the verge of tears from sheer exhaustion.
“I get it, kitten,” she softened.
She spoke to the waiter, ordering a dish with another long, strange name.
The waiter nodded, bowed his head, and efficiently cleared the table onto a small trolley before pushing it away.
She looked up at Armin and playfully tugged at his nose.
He played along, shaking his head at her antics before resting his head heavily on her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Soon, the food arrived.
The moment it was set down in front of him, his face brightened immediately.
Alas!
Something truly edible.
He lifted his eyes to her in gratitude and winked.
She blushed in return, her milky skin flushing a beautiful red.
She had ordered two large servings of premium lobster macaroni and cheese because he had complained about the portion sizes.
Truly, she was surprisingly observant for a spoiled kid.
“You like it?”
“Yeah.
Didn’t know they actually served things fitting for human consumption here.”
She laughed at his joke and pushed the plate closer to him.
Hungry and exhausted from the relentless drama of the day, he dived into the food, pushing his endless, heavy thoughts aside.
She sat right beside him, admiring him the same way she had when he was munching on fruits on her bedroom carpet.
She must have a thing for watching people eat, he realized.
He finished the first plate and pushed it away, and she thoughtfully placed the second one right in front of him.
He smiled at her and continued eating.
When he was done, he picked up his cocktail and downed the rest of it in one go.
She gently wiped his mouth with a tissue and pressed a sweet, affectionate kiss to his cheek.
For the first time in a long time, he felt full and content.
Pleased with her, he leaned over and placed a light kiss on her neck.
She giggled silently, signaling the waiter once more.
She ordered a champagne gelée dessert and another round of cocktails for them both.
They settled into comfortable small talk.
As the waiter wheeled the dessert trolley toward their table, Armin looked up.
But something else caught his eye.
Behind the waiter, the silhouette of a man being led to a nearby table felt too familiar to ignore.
Armin stretched his neck, his gaze locking onto the figure.
The man sported a distinct, sharp undercut—a hairstyle that wasn’t exactly popular among regular men.
Before he knew it, Armin found himself standing up, walking toward the stranger’s table as if he were completely hypnotized.
He could faintly feel Alicia pulling at his hand and calling out his name, but he kept walking forward, bound under a spell.
His temperature spiked, his body heating up all of a sudden.
When he reached the table, the man was sitting opposite a redhead lady who was chatting loudly.
Armin reached down, grabbed the man’s chin, and forcefully turned his face toward him.
He staggered back in shock.
It was him.
it was his Daddy.
“Minmin,” the stranger called.
A lone tear found its way down Armin’s cheek.
“Daddy,” his lips quivered.
Let’s continue with the next chapter as the drama continues to unfold!
Dont forget to drop your thoughts and Happy reading!