The car slowed in front of Celestine, all glass, sharp lines, and understated luxury. The kind of place where silence cost more than a month’s rent and even the air seemed imported.
Beside me, Leo practically glued his face to the window, eyes wide as saucers.
He let out a low whistle.
"Holy moly!" Leo whistled, craning his neck. "This place is... insane! Good thing we bought those new suits. At least I won’t look like a street rat getting kicked out of royalty." he muttered. "I didn’t know you and Dad were this well off to even afford to shop and buy suits this expensive. You’ve been hiding things from me, Isa."
I shot him a warning look.
He lifted his hands in surrender, grinning. "Chillax, bro. I’m just kidding. Sort of."
But he wasn’t entirely wrong. The scale of this place was intimidating. I smoothed down my dress for the tenth time, my own nerves a frantic flutter in my chest. This was it. The meeting.
Our father cleared his throat, the sound tight. He hadn’t said much in the car, and now his eyes darted between the glittering restaurant doors and me, like he was still unsure if this was a dream or a trap.
The driver opened the door, and the city’s air wrapped around us like silk.
Adrien was already waiting.
Not inside, not tucked away — but at the very entrance, as if he had claimed the entire place until we arrived. His tailored black suit caught the city lights, but it was his stillness that hit me hardest. Everyone else looked like they were arriving at a restaurant. Adrien looked like the world had arrived for him.
And then his eyes found me.
The mask slipped. Just a fraction. His shoulders eased, his mouth softened, his gaze warmed like I was the only one in sight.
My breath snagged.
Leo muttered, "Holy— He’s like a Bond villain but hotter. I won’t lie, I am still not used to seeing him."
I kicked his foot lightly.
Adrien’s stride was smooth, unhurried, but the moment he reached us, he took me into his space as if there was no other choice. His arm wrapped around my waist, firm and protective, his lips brushing my temple in a greeting that felt both intimate and deliberate.
"Princess," he murmured low enough only I could hear. "You’re late."
"I am early," I whispered back. And he took my purse from me as he held it.
Then he straightened, his other hand extended politely to my father. "Mr. Miller." His tone was respectful, controlled, a far cry from the warmth he’d just given me.
"Adrien. It’s... a pleasure."
Adrien offered Leo a small, polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Good evening, Leo."
"Evening, Mr. Washington," Leo replied, attempting a formality that sounded like it had been practiced in front of a mirror. "Nice to see you again. Your... suit game is on point, by the way. Really on point."
Adrien’s lips quirked, the slightest hint of amusement. "Thank you, Leo. Yours is... also on point."
The compliment, I suspected, was as carefully calibrated as everything else Adrien did. Before I could fully breathe him in, another voice chimed in.
"Well, look at that. The Millers have arrived."
Cameron. He appeared at Adrien’s side, all easy charm in his navy suit, as though this wasn’t a high-stakes family gathering but just another night out. His grin was quick, his eyes sharp. He clasped Leo’s shoulder like they’d been friends forever and offered me a wink that eased a fraction of my nerves.
No Aria tonight though. She’d texted earlier: "I’d rather fight a bear than sit with the Waltons. Good luck, queen."
Cameron’s presence, while momentarily distracting, did little to dispel the underlying tension. My father, still looking out of his depth, offered a hesitant nod to Cameron. Leo, meanwhile, was openly ogling the intricate floral arrangements that adorned the restaurant’s entrance, their exotic blooms a stark contrast to the understated elegance of the building.
"Right this way," Cameron announced, his voice booming just a little too loud, as if to fill the void left by my father’s silence. He gestured with an open palm towards the colossal glass doors.
As Adrien guided us toward the waiting staff and into the golden-lit interior of Celestine, I couldn’t shake the weight of his hand at my back. Steady. Claiming.
Like he was warning the world: she’s mine.
The moment we stepped inside, a team of uniformed staff took our coats, and the hushed opulence of Celestine enveloped us. Soft jazz drifted from unseen speakers as everywhere seemed empty. The lighting was a master class in mood-setting, casting a warm, amber glow that softened the sharp edges of the modern decor. It was a world away from the bustling city outside, a curated sanctuary of taste and privilege.
When the maître d started walking towards us, I leaned in to whisper into Adrien’s ear "let me guess, you booked the entire building."
Adrien’s lips curved into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Only the best for our families, Princess," he murmured back, his rich voice a private rumble. "And I prefer not to be disturbed on such an important occasion. Or would you like rumors to begin and seeing them on the media?"
I gave a small, resigned shake of my head. "Of course not," I said, leaning back as the maître d, a man whose spine was straighter than a ruler, approached us, he bowed and started to guide us.
The maître d’, a man with a spine straighter than a ruler, led us through a section of the restaurant that was indeed completely empty, though tables were immaculately set, silverware glinting under individual spotlights. It felt less like a restaurant and more like a private art gallery, each table a pristine display, waiting for guests who would never arrive tonight.
Leo’s earlier bravado had evaporated, replaced by a wide-eyed awe that made him look younger than his twenty years. My father’s shoulders were rigid, his hands shoved deep into his new suit pockets as if seeking an anchor in unfamiliar waters.
We passed through an archway, veiled by heavy velvet drapes, and into a circular private dining room. It was even more breathtaking than the main area, with a sweeping view of the city skyline glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows. A long, exquisitely set mahogany table occupied the center, laden with gleaming silverware and delicate floral arrangements.