ELLA POV:
After what felt like an eternity, I finally mustered up the courage to peek around the edge of the table. My father wasn’t there anymore—at least not within my line of sight. Relief washed over , but it was quickly tempered by paranoia.
What if he’d left so of his personal security behind to keep an eye out? What if he hadn’t actually left at all but was sowhere just out of view? Knowing my father, he wouldn’t make an appearance without so kind of ulterior motive.
For better judgnt, I decided to stay put under the table a little while longer, just in case. Jason, anwhile, had taken to picking at a loose thread on his jacket, looking for all the world like this was just another Tuesday night for him.
"Are we good yet, or do you plan on setting up camp down there?" he asked casually, glancing my way.
"Shh," I hissed, ignoring him. I gave it a good five minutes—maybe ten, to be safe—before I finally stood up and slipped back into my chair, doing my best to look as though I hadn’t just been crouched under the table like a lunatic.
Jason looked up, settling into his seat in a comfortable way while giving a curious look. "So... are you going to tell what that was about?"
"Nope," I said quickly, picking up my water glass and taking a sip. While pretending to adjust the napkin on my lap.
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Co on, Ella. You can’t just dive under a table and not explain. Was it an ex? A stalker? A secret twin?"
"None of the above," I muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Jason didn’t press, but I could tell he wasn’t dropping it either. He just sat back and gave this amused, patient look, like he had all the ti in the world.
But my mind wasn’t on him anymore.
Why the hell was my father here? Of all the places he could’ve gone, why this restaurant? And more importantly, why this country?
I felt a sinking feeling in my gut as a possibility hit .
Could my godfather have sothing to do with this? He and my father had always been close, despite their different worlds. If he’d ntioned where I was or what I was doing...
No. That couldn’t be it. My godfather wouldn’t sell out like that. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.
Still, the thought made my chest tighten. If my father was here, it couldn’t be good.
Whatever business he was doing here, I just prayed he got it over with quickly and left. I was so close to graduating—just one more month—and then I’d officially be a graduate. Not only that, but I’d also be partnering with one of the largest competitors of my father’s company. That would teach him not to underestimate .
Don’t get wrong—I love my father. I know he loves too, probably more than anything. But what drove away was his overprotectiveness and his refusal to let pursue the path I wanted.
I’d always dread of following in his footsteps, of becoming a cutthroat business woman just like him. I wanted to carry on his legacy, to prove that I was every bit as capable as he was. But no, he didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t imagine his "precious princess" in the chaos of the business world. He wanted to steer clear of it entirely, insisting it wasn’t the place for .
Instead, he envisioned a different life for —a life filled with glamour, luxury, and the safety of a husband who’d handle all the ssy details of running a business. To him, that was the ideal. To , it was a cage.
I know he ant well. I know he just wanted to protect . But he needed to understand—I’m not so fragile, helpless damsel in distress.
That’s why I fought him at every turn. He pushed for ballet and beauty classes? I signed up to learn how to ride motorcycles, hacking, and anything else that would drive him crazy. He wanted in dresses and pearls? I showed up in leather jackets and jeans.
The final straw ca when he tried to set up with "the perfect husband." A young man who’d impressed him by securing a major deal for his father’s company. My father couldn’t stop raving about him, saying he was everything a husband should be—ambitious, successful, and the kind of man who could handle the family business while I lived a life of ease.
That was it for .
I packed my bags and left, determined to prove him wrong. I didn’t need a husband to manage the chaos for . I didn’t need anyone to hand a legacy—I could build one on my own.
And now, here I was, months away from graduating, one step closer to achieving everything he said I couldn’t. If he’d just leave alone, I could finish what I started.
Because no matter how much I loved him, this was sothing I had to do for myself.
I glanced across the table at Jason, who was now chewing on a breadstick and watching like I was so kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.
"Stop staring," I said, trying to sound annoyed.
"Can’t help it," he said with a grin. "You’re kind of fascinating when you’re flustered."
I rolled my eyes and focused on my food, even though my appetite had all but vanished. Whatever brought my father here, I’d deal with it later.
Right now, I just needed to get through this dinner without losing my mind.
JASON POV:
The restaurant had turned out to be the perfect choice. I could tell Ella was impressed, even if she was too stubborn to admit it outright. The place had just the right vibe—classy but not pretentious, with warm lighting and an intimate atmosphere. I’d nailed it.
Seeing her relax, actually enjoying herself instead of running around taking orders, was a win in my book. She deserved a break, even if I’d had to drag her here to get it.
And the food? I’d suggested she try a dish I knew she wouldn’t pick for herself, and when she took the first bite, her reaction was priceless. Her eyes widened, and I could almost see her annoyance lt away, replaced with pure bliss.
"Told you," I said smugly, watching her practically lt over the plate.
"Okay, fine," she admitted reluctantly, her voice grudging. "You were right. This is amazing."
I leaned back, savoring the victory. "You heard it here first—Ella approves."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips was impossible to miss. Monts like this made all the trouble worth it.
We fell into easy conversation, sothing rare for us, and she actually seed interested when I talked about how I’d built the LBJ Company. For a mont, I thought this celebration idea might have been my best plan yet.
And then things got weird.
Ella was mid-bite when she froze. Her eyes darted to the entrance, and her entire deanor shifted. Her shoulders stiffened, her breathing quickened, and I could almost feel the panic radiating off her.
Before I could ask what was wrong, she muttered, "Shit," and dove under the table so fast she nearly took the silverware with her.
I stared at the now-empty seat across from , my fork suspended in mid-air. "Ella? What the hell are you doing?"
"Shh!" she hissed from under the table, pressing a finger to her lips like this was so kind of spy movie.
"Don’t look!"
"Don’t look at what?" I asked, baffled, glancing around the restaurant.
She reached up and grabbed my knee, yanking my attention back to the table. "Don’t make it obvious! Just sit there and act normal!"
Act normal? Sure. Because having your dinner date hiding under the table was completely normal.
"Okay," I said slowly, setting my fork down. "But why are you under the table? Did you drop sothing or—"
"Shh!" she snapped again, crouching lower like a fugitive on the run. I turn around and spotted Mr Kingsley!!
Fuckin shit !! I cursed as I slid off my chair and joined her under the table.
"What the hell are you doing?" she whisper-yelled, glaring at like I was the crazy one.
I grinned, shrugging. "Figured I’d join you. If you’re hiding from soone, it must be serious. Plus..." I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck. "I may have told a little lie."
Her eyebrow shot up. "What kind of lie?"
"I might’ve told my new partner—the one I just signed the multimillion-dollar deal with—that I couldn’t celebrate with him tonight because I had other plans."
Yeah I know I shouldn’t have lied to Mr Kingsley but I already told Ella I’d pick her at eight before his assistance called saying Mr Kingsley had invited to a dinner to celebrate the new business partnership. What? I couldn’t cancel my date with Ella it was a rare opportunity to blow it.
Her jaw dropped. "You lied to a guy you just signed a multimillion-dollar deal with?"
I winced. "It sounded better in my head, okay?"
She sighed, shaking her head like I was the most ridiculous person she’d ever t. "Unbelievable."
Peeking over the edge of the table, I scanned the room. "Okay, who are we hiding from? Ex-boyfriend? Rival server? Mafia boss?"
Ella stiffened, her eyes darting away. Whatever—or whoever—she was avoiding, it wasn’t sothing she wanted to talk about. "It’s nothing. Just... soone I’d really rather not see right now."
I gave her a skeptical look. "That’s vague, even for you."
"Well, vague is all you’re getting," she shot back, keeping her head low.
Fair enough. "Guess we’re both fugitives for now," I said, leaning back against the table leg.
She glared at , but there was sothing almost amused in her expression. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, I had to admit—being under the table with her was oddly entertaining.
After a while, I peeked around again and saw that my "problem" was gone. Sitting back up in my chair, I adjusted my jacket and flashed her a cheeky smile.
"Well, mine’s gone," I said, picking up my fork like nothing had happened.
Ella glared at from under the table, clearly unimpressed. "Good for you. I’m staying down here."
"You know you look ridiculous, right?" I teased, unable to hold back a laugh. "I can’t believe I also did that. Oh, God."
"Ridiculous or not, I’m staying here until he leaves," she said firmly, her voice muffled.
I sighed, leaning down slightly. "You know, if you describe what this person looks like, I could tell you when they’re gone. Or," I added with a grin, "I could join you back down there, and we can get creative."
She smacked my leg lightly, her face turning red. "Jason, I swear to God—"
Before she could finish, a waiter approached our table, looking thoroughly confused. "Is everything alright here?"
Flashing him my most charming smile, I said, "Everything’s great. She just, uh... dropped sothing. She’ll be right back up."
The waiter nodded slowly, still looking dubious, and walked away.
Turning back to Ella, I raised an eyebrow. "You heard the man. Get up before you give yourself away."
"Not until he’s gone," she muttered, huddling under the table like her life depended on it.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t push it. Instead, I leaned back in my chair and resud eating like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Honestly, I had no idea what—or who—she was hiding from, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious.
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