The heavy, soundproofed door of the private suite clicked shut, instantly cutting off the muffled ambient noise of the restaurant and the chaotic hum of the street outside. The room was small and comfortably lit, featuring dark wood paneling, low-hanging amber lights, and a polished table set for two.
Jake pulled out a plush leather chair for Catherine, checking to ensure she was settled before taking his own seat across from her. "Well, that was unnecessary for just a dinner."
Catherine let out a long, slow breath, resting her forearms on the table with an amused smile. "It was definitely an entrance. I think I counted at least three people trying to live-stream your shoes."
Jake laughed quietly, reaching across the table to lace his fingers through hers. "I’m sorry about that. Elias warned that the security visibility might draw a crowd eventually, but I didn’t expect a full baseline blockade just for a Friday dinner."
"Don’t apologize," Catherine said, squeezing his hand back. She leaned forward, her eyes bright with genuine warmth. "To be honest, I’m just glad to see you’re not checking your pockets for an earpiece every five seconds. How are you holding up? Truly. With Tuesday coming up, everyone at the firm is talking about the live broadcast."
"I’m fine," Jake said, his voice dropping into a relaxed, steady rhythm. "The tech and the legal periters are completely locked down. Selena spent the week making sure the network producers understand the exact boundaries of the NDA. If they deviate by a single syllable on air, we pull the plug."
"It’s just wild seeing how fast everything is moving around you," Catherine smiled, her eyes searching his face. "Not long ago we were jus graduates, and now people are shouting your na in the street like you’re a celebrity they finally caught on cara."
"The money changes the environnt, but it doesn’t change ," Jake replied, his gaze locking onto hers. "The people outside are reacting to the headlines. But when I’m sitting here with you, the noise doesn’t register."
A soft flush hit Catherine’s cheeks, her smile turning entirely tender. "You’ve gotten entirely too smooth since you took over Apex Plaza, Mr. Rivers."
"I was always smooth," Jake teased, a genuine laugh breaking through his usual stoic deanor.
"Says the guy that used to avoid like a plague," Cath said chuckling.
"Hey, that was an entirely different situation and you know it," Jake said.
"Whatever you say Mr. Rivers."
The private waiter knocked discreetly before entering, bringing over a pair of nus and a bottle of chilled white wine. Once he poured two glasses and stepped back, Catherine glanced over the options.
"I’m starving," she admitted. "What are we getting?"
"Let’s start with the garlic butter oysters," Jake said, scanning the page. "And for the main course, the pan-seared Atlantic sea bass with saffron risotto."
"Perfect. I’ll get the grilled tiger prawns with the lemon-herb reduction," Catherine added, closing her nu with a satisfied nod.
Jake signaled the waiter, placed the order, and the man bowed politely before exiting, restoring the absolute privacy of the suite.
Out in the main, general dining room, the atmosphere was far less tranquil.
Chloe sat at a small two-person table near the center of the floor, her phone angled covertly against a small flower vase to keep the cara lens pointed at her plate. She had restarted her live stream using a discreet, low-profile application, attempting to salvage her night by doing a secret food review.
"Okay guys, the appetizer just arrived," Chloe whispered into her hidden lapel microphone, pointing her fork at a beautifully plated dish of truffle-glazed scallops. "The texture is incredibly delicate, and the glaze has this perfect balance of sweet and earthy tones. It’s absolutely worth the price point—"
She glanced down at her screen, expecting her viewers to be raving about the exclusive dish. Instead, the live chat was scrolling so fast it was a blur of aggressive text, completely ignoring the food.
User_9921: Nobody cares about the scallops Chloe!! Where is the Gold King?
FlexMaster: Is he in the back? Go find him!
VeyraBoy: Walk around the restaurant pretending to look for the bathroom and get him on cara!
HyperDrive: Ask him for an interview! Do it for the stream!
CryptoWhale: 10,000VM more gifts if you find Jake Rivers right now.
Chloe’s jaw clenched. A flash of intense frustration crossed her face, and she had to force herself to maintain her bright, influencer smile. She was a verified food reviewer, yet twenty thousand people were treating her like a cheap paparazzi agent.
"Guys, Mr. Rivers is in a completely private, restricted area," she muttered quietly under her breath, trying to guide her viewers back to the plate. "We are here to review The Neptune Archive’s winter nu tonight. Next up, we have the garlic-crusted rock lobster..."
But the chat refused to shift focus.
Alpha_01: Borrrring. Find the King!
StarGazer: He has to co out to leave eventually, just watch the main floor!
D_Gar: Stand by the kitchen doors Chloe!
Annoyed, Chloe took a sharp bite of a scallop, barely tasting it. She despised being ignored on her own platform, but as she looked at the historic spike in her viewer trics and the steady stream of high-tier digital gifts piling up on her dashboard, she swallowed her pride.
She kept her phone angled toward her table, pretending to focus on her dinner, but her eyes continuously darted toward the heavily guarded hallway leading to the private booths. She secretly kept her stream running, silently hoping that Jake would eventually step out into the general dining area, even if it was just to pay the bill.
Inside the quiet sanctuary of the private room, the noise of the outer restaurant remained completely non-existent.
The waiter returned, smoothly laying down the steaming plates of sea bass and grilled tiger prawns. The aroma of garlic, saffron, and fresh citrus filled the space between them.
Catherine picked up her fork, her eyes sparkling under the dim amber light. "No corporate talk for the rest of the night? Promise?"
"Not a single word," Jake smiled, raising his wine glass to et hers. "Tonight is strictly about us, and figuring out how we’re going to survive Aliya’s new car options this weekend."
Catherine laughed, the sound warm and clear in the quiet room. "Oh, she’s absolutely going to pick the most expensive car she can find. You better be prepared to cough up the money."
The soft sound of a classical acoustic guitar track played through the hidden speakers of the private suite as Jake and Catherine finished their al. The saffron risotto was rich, perfectly complenting the crispness of the white wine.
They argued playfully over whether Aliya would actually read the safety manuals of whatever car she chose, and Catherine teased him about his lack of styling knowledge when it ca to choosing interior leather colors. It was a normal, quiet pocket of ti that Jake desperately needed.
---
anwhile, across the city, the atmosphere inside the bustling editorial headquarters of the Veyra Financial Chronicle was anything but quiet.
William Spade stood in the center of the glass-walled chief editor’s office, a lukewarm cup of coffee forgotten in his hand. Around the conference table sat the publication’s heavy hitters: the managing director, the senior copy chief, and the executive VP of digital dia.
"Forty percent pre-show ad slots are already locked in, William," Harold, the managing director, said, slamming a thick folder of analytical data onto the table. His usually stern face was split into a wide, triumphant grin. "The network just confird that the mont word leaked about the live Tuesday broadcast, three major banking conglorates bought out the pri comrcial breaks surrounding your segnt. They paid double the standard rate."
"It’s an absolute coup, Spade," the senior copy chief added, leaning forward with an appreciative nod. "Every major publication in the province has been trying to get a statent out of Golden Investnts since the Aurelia board restructuring. The fact that a junior investigative profile writer managed to secure a thirty-minute, unedited live sit-down with Rivers is a massive win for this house. The board of directors is ecstatic."
William maintained a calm, professional posture, though his pulse was racing. He knew the heavy lifting had been orchestrated entirely by Selena Dune’s ticulous PR strategy, but he wasn’t about to turn down the internal leverage this gave him in the newsroom.
"Mr. Rivers was very specific about the operational boundaries," William cautioned, keeping his voice asured. "The legal nondisclosure agreent we initialed isn’t just standard corporate boilerplate. If we try to corner him with any unapproved questions, his legal team will pull the feed imdiately. They’ve already threatened to yank their entire advertising portfolio from our digital network if we deviate."
Harold waved his hand dismissively, though his eyes remained sharp. "We play by his rules, William. Don’t worry. We aren’t looking to execute a hit piece. The public doesn’t want an audit; they want to see the face of the young man who’s worth a hundred billion marks. We give him a clean, professional platform to establish his narrative, and in return, we get the highest broadcasting ratings this paper has seen in a decade."
The executive VP stood up, walking over to clap William firmly on the shoulder. "Get so rest this weekend, Spade. Co Monday morning, you’ll be working directly with the network’s technical crew to finalize the studio layout. This interview is going to put your na on the national map. Don’t drop the ball."
"I won’t," William said confidently.
Back at The Neptune Archive, Chloe’s covert stream was beginning to stall out. She had painstakingly dragged out her dessert course, ticulously reviewing a plate of molten chocolate lava cake for twenty minutes, but her viewers were losing patience.
VeyraBoy: He’s been in the back for over an hour.
Alpha_01: Did he leave through a back door?
HyperDrive: Check the parking lot Chloe!
Before Chloe could type a response to her chat, the distinct, rhythmic clicking of polished shoes echoing against the hardwood floor caught her attention.
From the private corridor, Jake and Catherine erged. Jake’s casual jacket was buttoned, his hand resting naturally on Catherine’s waist as he guided her toward the front exit. The security team imdiately moved into formation, two n clearing a path toward the glass doors while Elias signaled the convoy outside.
Chloe’s heart leaped. She subtly tilted her phone, ensuring the cara lens captured the exact mont Jake walked past the general dining floor.
"There he is, guys," Chloe whispered frantically into her collar mic, her eyes glued to her screen as the viewer count instantly spiked again. "Mr. Rivers is officially leaving the building."
Jake didn’t look toward the tables. His focus remained entirely on Catherine, laughing softly at sothing she murmured as they stepped through the main doors. Outside the crowd was bigger that before. The bright strobe lights of civilian smartphones instantly flashed through the glass as the gathering crowd tried to capture the departure, but the blacked-out doors of the Audi RS 6 closed smoothly, and within seconds, the three-car convoy lted into the evening traffic, leaving the street behind them in a buzz of static energy.
---
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