Chapter 419: Water and Bad Intentions

When Lucas and Bennett stepped into the restaurant, every head turned.

Conversations paused mid-sentence. Forks hovered. A few people openly stared without even pretending to be subtle. The pair walked through the quiet attention like it was nothing and took a corner table. Only after they sat did the room slowly remember how to function again.

Outside, Chiara was still standing where they had left her.

The first camera flash hit her face like a slap.

Then another.

And another.

Her carefully held expression cracked. Whatever sadness she had been nursing vanished under pure public panic. She spun toward her car so fast she almost tripped, grabbed the door handle, and yanked it like the vehicle had personally offended her.

It didn’t open.

She yanked again. Harder. Then a third time, muttering under her breath while more flashes went off behind her. When the door finally gave, she threw herself inside with zero grace.

"Move. Move. Move!"

The driver barely had time to react before she was already yelling. The car shot forward, engine climbing too fast, nearly clipping a man who had stepped into the road with his phone raised. Someone shouted. Another flash went off against the back window as they tore away from the curb.

Inside the restaurant, none of that noise reached the corner table.

Lucas and Bennett sat across from each other as if the sidewalk drama had never happened. Menus rested between them. The low murmur of other tables slowly returned to normal around them.

The waiter who approached their table was a young woman with big, heavy breasts that strained against her shirt and a thick, rounded ass that stretched the fabric of her skirt with every step. Before leaving the service station she had deliberately undone an extra button so the soft upper curve of her cleavage stayed visible, and she had pulled the hem of her skirt higher until it barely covered the underside of her ass. The changes were intentional. She wanted him to notice.

She ignored the other tables waiting for attention and walked straight toward Lucas, hips moving with more sway than the job required. When she stopped beside him, her eyes stayed on his face a second too long while she held the notepad.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, voice softer than necessary.

Lucas ordered the grilled salmon with risotto. Bennett asked for the beef lasagna without looking up from the menu. The waiter wrote both down, but her attention never really left him. When she turned to leave, she put an extra roll in her step, letting her ass shift under the short skirt in a clear attempt to pull his eyes. The only person who actually watched the whole performance was Bennett.

A short while later the waiter disappeared into the back. In the narrow staff area she pulled a compact from her pocket, quickly fixed her lipstick, and pressed powder across her cheeks. She checked her reflection once, adjusted the open button of her shirt so more of her chest showed, and only then picked up the tray.

When she returned she did not set everything down at once. First she placed Bennett’s lasagna in front of her with careful hands. Then she slowly set Lucas’s grilled salmon and risotto in front of him, leaning in just enough that the curve of her breasts stayed in his line of sight a second longer than needed. Only after both plates were settled did she reach for the water glass meant for him.

Her wrist tilted at the last moment.

Cold water spilled hard across the front of his trousers.

She gasped like it was a real accident and immediately pulled a handkerchief from her apron.

"I’m so sorry," she said quickly, already dropping into a half-crouch beside him. She pressed the cloth against the wet fabric and began dabbing, but her fingers moved with far too much purpose. The pressure traveled slowly along his thigh, higher than any normal cleanup required, the edge of her hand brushing close enough to feel the heat of his skin through the damp material.

Lucas shifted and tried to ease her hand away.

"It’s fine. Leave it."

She didn’t stop. She kept apologizing in a low voice while her fingers continued the slow, unnecessary strokes, lingering near the line of his crotch under the thin cover of drying the water. The "accident" had given her exactly the excuse she wanted, and she was using every second of it.

Bennett’s expression changed the moment the waiter’s hand stayed too long on Lucas’s thigh.

The look she gave the young woman was sharp enough to cut glass. She didn’t say a word, but the message was clear: she had seen every second of the performance and was not impressed. Lucas’s quiet attempt to brush the whole thing off meant nothing to her. She could see exactly what the waitress was doing.

The young woman felt the weight of that stare. Her fingers froze against the damp fabric. She stood up too fast, nearly knocking her own knee against the table, mumbled a rushed apology, and walked away without daring to look back. Her earlier confidence had completely disappeared.

Lucas glanced down at the wet patch on his trousers, then at Bennett.

"You didn’t have to scare her."

"She wasn’t cleaning," Bennett said flatly. "She was trying her luck. Badly."

He let it go. There was no point arguing. They returned to their food, and the table slowly settled back into a normal rhythm. Bennett still carried the quiet satisfaction from how he had handled Chiara earlier, and it showed in the way she relaxed into her chair, clearly pleased that another unwanted interruption had been shut down just as quickly.

When the plates were cleared, Bennett set her napkin down with a finality that already suggested the next decision had been made.

She looked at him.

"There’s a club I was planning to go to tonight," she said. "High-end place. Good music, private sections. Since you’re here, you’re coming with me."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "To celebrate a car?"

"No," she said, leaning forward slightly. "To celebrate the fact that you walked into Moretti’s like you owned the building, bought one of the rarest cars on the market without blinking, handled a celebrity meltdown on the sidewalk, and still managed to finish your food like none of it was worth your energy. That deserves a proper night. And I closed the deal. So yes—we’re going."

Lucas gave her a flat look. "I bought a car. You’re treating it like I won a war."

Bennett didn’t back down. "You don’t get it. People wait years just to look at that collection. You drove one out of the garage the same day. I’m not letting that end with dinner and a quiet ride home. You’re coming."

He still didn’t look convinced.

She tilted her head, voice lighter but no less firm. "Don’t make me drag you. I will. And it won’t be elegant."

Lucas let out a short breath that was almost a laugh, then gave a small nod. "Fine."

That was all she needed.

Bennett pulled out her phone and called her driver, giving the club’s name and telling him to meet them outside at once. Within minutes they were on the move again, leaving the restaurant behind.