The Secret Heirs of the Lycan King (by Misha K) novel Chapter 34

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**When Midnight Winds Carry Secrets Toward Worlds Yet Unknown**

**Chapter 34**

**Bella**

“I specifically asked you not to use those endearments,” I muttered under my breath, trying to keep my irritation in check.

In response, he merely flashed that infuriatingly lazy smirk of his, the kind that could make anyone’s blood boil. I rolled my eyes, fully aware that he had no intention of stopping.

Just then, a young server appeared, her presence a refreshing change amidst the dim, candle-lit ambiance of the private restaurant. “Right this way,” she instructed, leading us through the hushed space. We followed her into a curved booth, plush and lined with velvet, tucked away behind a screen of tall, leafy plants. It felt intimate, as if the world outside had faded away.

“Why did you choose a private booth?” I inquired, sliding into the seat with a mix of curiosity and unease. “And where are the others?”

“They’ll join us later,” Scott replied smoothly, settling into the seat across from me with an air of casual confidence.

The server placed crystal glasses in front of us and poured a deep ruby wine that wafted an intoxicating aroma into the air. Then she handed us slender leather menus. I glanced at mine before passing it back to her. “We’re expecting more people,” I said, forcing a smile, hoping to convey a hint of authority.

Her gaze flicked to Scott, surprise etched on her face, before returning to me.

Scott, however, seemed unfazed by my tone. “I’m famished. Let’s go ahead and order the first course,” he declared, his voice smooth as silk.

The server nodded, relief washing over her features.

“First course?” I raised an eyebrow, my skepticism evident. “Aren’t we waiting for the others?”

Ignoring my words entirely, Scott turned to the server. “We’ll start with the chef’s cold tasting, followed by the truffle pasta, and then the wagyu,” he ordered with a self-assured grin.

“I’ll be right back with your first course,” she said, retreating with an air of efficiency.

Scott leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That wine is something truly special, mi amor,” he said, gesturing for me to take a sip. “It’s from the hills of Italy, the very first pick of the grapevine.”

I took a cautious sip, and the flavors exploded on my palate. “Mmm… this is divine,” I sighed, momentarily forgetting my irritation.

Scott’s gaze darkened, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my cheeks flush. I quickly diverted my gaze to my phone, trying to occupy myself with the screen as the minutes dragged on. No one arrived. I took another sip of the wine, scrolling aimlessly, pretending my annoyance didn’t simmer beneath the surface. When I finally looked up, I found Scott still watching me, as if he had captured the moonlight in his gaze, holding it there just for me. Heat rushed up my neck, and I quickly averted my eyes, scanning the empty room once more. The silence was palpable; even the staff moved like shadows, their presence barely felt.

“Alright,” I said, my voice sharper than intended. “What is going on? Where is everyone? You mentioned that shortlisted candidates would be here for a meeting.”

He merely lifted his glass, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if my frustration amused him.

Before I could press for an explanation, soft music began to drift down from somewhere above us. It was slow and mellow, a piano melody that felt like a heartbeat pulsing through the quiet. Just then, the server returned, pushing a small cart that bore a rich chocolate cake. She set it down in front of me and vanished without a word.

I stared at the cake, bewildered. “Why is there cake?”

Scott slid a small knife toward me, his expression maddeningly pleased. “Because it’s our two-week anniversary.”

I blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. “Our what?”

“Two weeks since you came back into my life,” he said, his voice dropping to a warm, intimate tone. “I wanted to take you out on a date. So… this is a date.”

My jaw tightened, anger bubbling up inside me. How could he just spring a date on me like this? I wasn’t romantically involved with him. “What? Absolutely not!” I pushed the knife back toward him defiantly. “I’m leaving.” I stood up, grabbed my purse, and prepared to walk out.

He remained seated, his demeanor unyielding. “Sit down, Bella,” he commanded, his voice firm and unwavering. “If you leave now, I will announce to the world that we are dating, and trust me, that is not something you want.”