The restaurant Scarlet chose was The Olive Oasis, a well-known fine-dining establishnt across from Hope Hospital.
Crystal chandeliers. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Private booths shielded by sheer golden drapes. It was the kind of place where influential doctors negotiated research grants and CEOs closed discreet deals over a truffle risotto.
Scarlet walked slightly ahead, her heels clicking confidently against the marble floor. Shay held Ares’ hand.
She had positioned herself on his other side.
Close enough for their arms to brush.
"Still the sa," Scarlet said lightly as they were ushered to a private room. "You always preferred quiet corners."
Ares gave a neutral hum.
He had chosen corners back then because Scarlet had liked to talk about dreams that required privacy.
dical school abroad. Big research grants. Leaving the country together.
He pushed the mory away.
They sat. Scarlet naturally took the seat beside him. Not across but beside him.
Shay climbed onto her chair and stayed close to Ares, as if instinctively guarding territory she didn’t fully understand.
Scarlet smiled at the child, but her attention kept drifting back to Ares.
"You’ve done well," she said, glancing at him. "President and CEO of Zuvel Group. You were always ambitious."
"And you always wanted to leave," he replied evenly.
A flicker passed through her eyes.
"Yes," she admitted. "But I ca back."
There was weight behind those words.
I ca back.
For a mont, neither spoke.
Then she leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice.
"You know... I thought you’d be married by now."
Ares’ expression didn’t change.
"I thought you’d be overseas permanently."
She laughed softly.
"Life doesn’t always go the way we plan it to be."
Her leg brushed his under the table. Coincidental and accidental.
Ares did not move. His face remained calm as a lake before winter.
Shay looked up at them.
"Daddy," Shay’s small voice pierced the atmosphere, innocent and curious, "are you and Aunt Scarlet friends?"
Scarlet didn’t give Ares ti to answer.
"We were very close," she said softly, her lips curving with practiced warmth. "Your daddy used to protect from bullies."
Ares’ jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. A muscle ticked near his temple.
"That was a long ti ago."
Scarlet tilted her head, erald eyes shimring under the chandelier’s glow.
"If soone bullies now," she asked gently, "would you still protect ?"
Her gaze lingered on him — not playful, not entirely innocent. A challenge. A reminder. A test.
Ares held her stare for a second longer than necessary.
"You don’t look like soone who could be bullied," he replied casually.
Scarlet’s smile deepened.
"And you," she murmured, voice brimming with honey, "look like soone who could protect all the won of Lanura."
Ares let out a low chuckle, but his eyes sharpened.
"You’ve changed, Scarlet." His gaze swept across her face. "You look... different. More mature."
More dangerous.
"Am I looking better," she teased lightly, "or uglier?"
He did not answer.
Scarlet leaned toward Shay instead.
"Sweetie," she said, brushing a strand of her auburn-tinted hair behind her ear, "what do you think of Aunt Scarlet? Am I pretty?"
Shay considered her thoughtfully. "You are pretty, Aunt Scarlet. The color of your hair is different. And your eyes too, they are green."
Scarlet laughed. A dimple surfaced, charming and strategic.
For a mont, Ares was srized.
"Aunt Scarlet is very pretty," Shay continued matter-of-factly. Then she smiled brightly. "But Mommy is prettier."
The air shifted.
Scarlet’s smile froze, just for a fraction of a second before it returned, flawless.
"Which mommy?" she asked lightly. "Your biological one... or your governess?"
Shay blinked.
"Well..." She glanced at Ares, tilting her head like she was solving a math problem. "Of course, my Mommy, Larissa. She’s the prettiest."
Under the table, Scarlet’s manicured nails dug into her palm.
’This autistic brat! Why does she like that woman so much?’
"Of course," Scarlet said sweetly. "Whatever Shay says is right."
Ares watched everything. The micro-expressions, the tension hiding behind a curated smile.
Then his tone changed.
"Why did you block after you left?"
The warmth drained from the room. His eyes darkened — not with anger, but with sothing heavier.
A mory.
He had been young then. Reckless with love. Ready to build a future around her. Ready to fight the world if he had to.
But she had walked away, without hesitation, without explanation.
She erased him from her life with one decisive move.
Scarlet’s lashes lowered. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy.
"When Dad brought ho, my life at the Collins was difficult." Her voice trembled just enough. "I thought it would be better... but I was wrong. My stepmother and my two half-siblings made my life miserable."
Her fingers toyed with the rim of her wine glass.
"I was living on eggshells every day. I had to earn their favor. Do everything they ask. Smile when I wanted to scream."
Her eyes shimred, green deepening like forest over a storm.
Ares’ hands curled slowly into fists.
His chest tightened.
"Then why didn’t you co back?" he asked, voice flat but strained.
"I couldn’t." Her voice broke. "You know I had nothing to go back to. My mother was gone. I had no family."
Ares looked at her steadily.
You still had .
The words hovered unsaid.
But the Ares back then was not the Ares of today.
He wasn’t Lanura’s youngest business magnate. He wasn’t a man whose na made boardrooms fall silent.
He had been the son of an upright military officer — too honest to bend, too principled to be bribed.
Wealth was never in their vocabulary.
Would she have chosen him if he had nothing to offer but loyalty?
Scarlet seed ready to continue, but the waiter arrived, interrupting the fragile mont.
Plates were set down.
Shay’s favorite appeared: fried chicken and golden fries.
"Daddy," Shay asked carefully, "is it okay for to eat this? Mommy said too much junk food will make fat."
Ares’ gaze softened instantly. The hard edges in him lted.
He scooped spaghetti with atballs onto her plate.
"This one is better," he said gently. "Also, your favorite."
Shay bead and started eating happily, especially attacking the chicken drumstick with enthusiasm.
For a while, only the clinking of cutlery filled the private room.
Scarlet watched father and daughter — the easy affection, the quiet authority.
It should have been her sitting there. It should have been her child.
The thought burned.
Finally, her voice broke the silence.
"Ares..." She lifted her eyes slowly. "Did you hate ?"
The question lingered between them.
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