He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 598

"Mr. Hayes, we're being followed by reporters," she pointed out calmly.

"Let them," he replied, entirely unbothered.

The words she was about to say died in her throat.

Pressing the issue would only make her look paranoid.

So, she kept quiet.

Eventually, the car pulled up to the restaurant's entrance.

It was tucked away in a highly secluded area, virtually invisible to the average passerby.

The architecture itself was a stunning recreation of ancient Riverton estates.

By the time he handed the keys to the valet, the manager was already waiting at the door.

"Mr. Hayes, Ms. Wallace, right this way," the manager greeted respectfully, gesturing for them to enter.

She gave a polite nod.

He played the perfect gentleman.

He placed a hand behind her back to guide her, though he was careful not to actually touch her.

They looked incredibly close, yet there was a deliberate lack of overt romance.

It felt like a high-stakes business negotiation.

Yet, the intoxicating thrill of sexual tension between them was undeniably thick in the air.

She played dumb.

And he played right along.

They were led to a private dining room.

He slid the menu across the table toward her. "See what catches your eye."

She skimmed the pages, noting the array of famous local dishes.

With a faint smile, she closed the leather-bound book. "I'll let you decide."

After all, they weren't really here for the food.

What they ate was entirely irrelevant.

He nodded and smoothly rattled off a few signature orders to the waiter.

She watched him quietly. The moment he closed the menu, she stopped tapping her fingers against the table.

Her eyes locked onto his. "Let's skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point."

She desperately needed a prestige film to legitimize her comeback.

Clearly, sabotaging the film's casting wasn't his endgame.

"Then what is it?" she asked quietly.

They sat across from each other, separated by a mahogany table, yet locked in a silent war of attrition.

He simply stared at her, taking his time before answering.

The atmosphere in the room grew suffocatingly tense.

Right on cue, the waiter arrived with their appetizers.

"Let's eat first," he said smoothly.

She offered a tight smile, refusing to show any signs of weakness, and picked up her silverware.

After the exhausting day she'd had, she really was starving.

And the chef's execution was truly flawless, perfectly matching her palate.

There was no point in pretending she wasn't enjoying the meal.

He made light conversation throughout dinner, mostly restricting the topics to the cuisine itself.