Chapter 404
Fiona Valentine tapped the menu with her fingertip.
"Shall I order then?"
"Hmm."
"Madam, we'll have..."
She recited the dishes with practiced ease, clearly a regular.
"...Trust me, the flavors here are incredible. Rivals any high-end restaurant!"
Her eyes sparkled as she enthusiastically recommended.
Ethan Roscente gave occasional, terse replies, his demeanor cold.
The smoky aroma of barbecue tightened his throat.
The surrounding cacophony of voices only amplified his irritation.
He glanced at the skewers placed before him and lost his appetite completely.
Back when he dated Sophia Sullivan, even street food stalls felt enjoyable.
It turned out the wrong person made everything feel wrong.
Fiona picked up a skewer and offered it to him.
"Try this one. It's my favorite."
Ethan didn't take it.
Her hand paused mid-air.
"You don't like this kind of food, do you? My apologies, I wasn't considerate."
She quickly set the skewer down, her tone flustered.
"Should we go somewhere else? You choose."
"No need. My stomach's been unsettled lately. Not hungry."
"But we ordered so much..."
Ethan had lost all patience.
"Throw away whatever's left."
Fiona only ate a few skewers in the end, leaving the rest untouched.
The owner sighed while settling the bill, seeing the table full of leftovers.
"Young people these days... if you can't finish it, don't order so much. Having money doesn't mean you should waste food..."
Ethan drove Fiona back to campus in silence.
He only gave short answers when she initiated conversation.
Eventually, even she fell quiet.
The atmosphere in the car grew stiff.
Ethan focused on driving, seemingly oblivious.
Fiona gazed out the window at the streets rushing past, her eyes gradually losing focus.
Passing the bar street, she suddenly spoke.
"It's still early. Fancy a drink?"
Ethan didn't answer, but slowly pulled over.
He led her into a bar named "L'Air du Temps".
"Mr. Roscente! What a rare guest! Thought my eyes were deceiving me! The usual? A bottle of Brandy and Louis XIII?"
The owner greeted him warmly.
Considering Fiona's tolerance, Ethan just ordered a bottle of Champagne and headed straight for a booth.
Fiona followed closely behind.
The owner watched them with a knowing smile.
The manager murmured, "Hasn't the young master been gone for over a year? Heard he was heartbroken, moped for ages."
The owner shot him a glance.
"Can't believe rumors! See, he's brought a new flame."
The manager chuckled.
"Guys like him never settle for just one person."
"Take good care of them tonight. He's a major client."
...
The classic Champagne was crisp and slightly acidic, more palatable chilled.
Accustomed to hard liquor, Ethan found it too mild, only taking occasional sips.
Fiona, however, seemed to have discovered a new world, downing three glasses and reaching for more.
Ethan reminded her flatly.
"Champagne can still get you drunk."
"Really? It tastes like juice, with a hint of peach." Her cheeks flushed, her watery eyes gazing at him dreamily.
"You don't like it?"
Ethan neither confirmed nor denied.
Unbothered, Fiona poured herself another glass.
The change of scenery and the music seemed to soften the man's expression, his mood apparently improving.
He even responded when Fiona spoke.
It was no longer a monologue.
Suddenly, the beat grew stronger, the lights shifted dazzlingly, and couples on the dance floor moved freely to the music.
Fiona's eyes lit up, caught by the atmosphere. She took Ethan's hand.
"Let's go dance?"
Tipsy, her gaze was hazy yet strikingly bright as she pleaded softly. A flicker of thought crossed Ethan's mind, and he let her pull him onto the dance floor.
Fiona didn't know how to dance, just swayed randomly to the music. Her clumsiness amused Ethan.
"What are you laughing at?" she mumbled.
His smile widened.
Annoyed, she said, "Don't just let me make a fool of myself. You dance too!"
Emboldened by alcohol, Fiona boldly grabbed his hands and swung them wildly.
Seeing he didn't resist, she grew bolder, raising his hands and spinning.
Ethan wasn't particularly interested, but he didn't stop her either.
Fiona moved from nervousness to immersion, until their eyes met—
The lights were seductive, the music intimate.
Somehow their bodies drew close. The faint scent of alcohol on him made Fiona feel even drunker.
Looking up, her heartbeat suddenly raced. Ethan's eyes seemed to hold a galaxy of stars, pulling her inexorably closer...
She rose on her toes, her gaze settling on his lips.
The music was perfect, the atmosphere heating up.
The man seemed equally captivated, leaning in slowly.
Just as Fiona's heart pounded, thinking she was about to succeed, Ethan suddenly pushed her away, stepping back two paces.
"You're drunk."
Fiona stiffened.
She quickly lowered her eyes to hide her disappointment.
When she looked up again, her expression was one of confused embarrassment. She patted her cheeks, her eyes clearing as she apologized repeatedly.
"I'm sorry. I had too much to drink. I wasn't thinking straight."
Ethan let out a soft laugh, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and turned to leave the dance floor.
He paid the bill and strode out of the bar.
Fiona watched his retreating back, furious and frustrated. She clenched her fists, bit her lip, and chased after him.
She refused to believe there was a fortress in this world that couldn't be breached.
If there was, it was either the wrong method or insufficient patience.
Fortunately, she lacked neither.
Could Ethan evade her once and evade her every time?
Men were all the same, after all.