Chapter 13 – Dinner of High Stakes

I stared at the invitation on my desk like it was some kind of ticking bomb.

“Business dinner. Tonight. You will accompany me,” it read, signed with the icy flourish of Niran’s signature.

Accompany him? My heart did a ridiculous flip. Two months. Two months of pretending. And now… this. A dinner where I had to act as his partner. Close proximity. Flirty faces. Potentially disastrous conversation.

I rubbed my temples. “Why did I ever agree to this game?” I muttered under my breath.

“Because you like a challenge,” Katty’s text came seconds later. Typical. Supportive, but also smug.

I groaned. Fine. Challenge accepted. But I needed a plan. Or at least… a survival strategy.

---

The evening arrived. The restaurant was sleek, minimalist, softly lit. A private room had been arranged—impressive, intimidating, and perfect for… nerves. I smoothed my dress, glanced in the mirror, and tried not to panic. Professional, Catty. Professional, but approachable. Smiles, subtle charm, eyes… not staring too much. Got it.

Niran arrived precisely on time, as always. Golden eyes scanning the room. He looked… devastating. Suit impeccable, posture perfect, aura… lethal. And yet, when he glanced at me, something softened in his gaze, just slightly.

“Katty,” he said, voice low, calm. “Follow my lead. Speak only when necessary. Observe.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I stammered, adjusting my posture. My heartbeat raced. Observe. Right. That’s easy.

Except it wasn’t easy.

---

The clients arrived—two couples, impeccably dressed, their smiles polished, their expectations obvious. I introduced myself carefully, voice steady despite the adrenaline. Every handshake was deliberate, every word measured. And through it all, Niran’s eyes remained on me. Not cold, not judgmental… interested.

I could feel his gaze following every gesture, every flick of my hands, every subtle attempt to impress. My cheeks warmed. Not now. Not here. Focus. Professional. Survival.

Dinner began. Conversation flowed. I tried to stay relaxed, laughing lightly when appropriate, nodding thoughtfully, smiling politely. But each time I accidentally brushed against his arm while reaching for the breadbasket, I froze. And each time, I felt that golden-eyed glance linger just a moment too long.

“You’re doing well,” he murmured once, as if reading my thoughts.

I nearly choked on my water. “Th-thank you, sir,” I stammered, my hand shaking slightly as I set down the glass.

He only tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

---

Halfway through, Alex appeared—somehow invited as a “friend” of the client, I assumed. He wove between tables with his usual mischievous grin.

“Look at you, Katty,” he whispered as he passed, voice low, teasing. “Sitting there, trying not to fluster the boss… and look at him! Golden eyes practically drilling holes into you. Don’t faint.”

“I’m trying not to die,” I muttered, clutching my napkin like a lifeline.

Alex chuckled and disappeared into the crowd. Typical. Can’t he just leave me alone for two hours?

---

Vivian sat across from me, her posture perfect, her gaze sharp. Subtle glances toward Niran made my stomach twist. She was clearly protective, but polite, testing me without overt confrontation.

I reminded myself: survive. Observe. Charm. Professionalism. And maybe… if I dared, a hint of flirtation. Just enough to intrigue. Not enough to ruin everything.

---

The client asked about our company’s vision, and I answered smoothly, carefully threading charm into my professionalism. Niran’s eyes occasionally flicked to me, subtle nods or slight shifts in posture—indications he approved, and perhaps… enjoyed my presence.

I caught a flicker of curiosity in his gaze when I suggested an innovative approach to a marketing plan. He didn’t respond immediately, only arched an eyebrow, that faint crease forming on his forehead. I bit my lip, hoping it was approval. Maybe it was.

Alex leaned toward me again under the guise of passing condiments. “I told you, you’re impressing him. Just… don’t trip over your own feet when he looks that way.”

I glared, but inside, my heart did a tiny somersault. Niran noticed my reaction. His golden eyes flicked toward me, just for a moment, and then he returned to the client discussion. That brief connection made my stomach flip in ways I wasn’t ready for.

---

Dinner continued, laughter and discussion flowing. At one point, Niran reached across the table to pass a document I had overlooked. His fingers brushed mine—quick, accidental, but enough to make my pulse spike.

“Careful,” he murmured quietly, only audible to me.

“I… I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Mm,” he replied, voice low, almost a hum, as if that apology amused him. My cheeks burned. I had no idea how to act. Stay professional, Catty. Stay professional.

Vivian’s eyes narrowed faintly as she watched the interaction. Protective, yes, but also wary. I felt the unspoken tension; it made me even more alert, trying to maintain composure while managing the chaotic swirl of emotions inside me.

---

By dessert, the clients were smiling, clearly charmed and impressed. My confidence grew—just enough. Niran’s approval was subtle but present, and that was intoxicating.

When the dinner ended, he stood first, hands clasped behind his back. “Katty,” he said quietly, voice low enough that only I could hear, “you handled yourself well tonight. Better than I expected.”

I swallowed hard. “Th-thank you, sir,” I whispered, cheeks blazing.

He inclined his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Keep this up. Observation and preparation will take you far. And… your instincts are sharper than I anticipated.”

My heart nearly stopped. He… complimented me. Really. Me.

As we walked toward the exit, I tried not to stumble over my heels. Every step beside him felt like walking a tightrope, but I couldn’t deny the thrill. His presence was magnetic, intimidating, and—dangerously—stirring feelings I wasn’t supposed to have.

“Good work tonight,” he added, voice low, almost private, as if sharing a secret.

I nodded, barely able to speak. “I… thank you, sir.”

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying: surviving two months wasn’t the only challenge. Navigating my growing feelings for him—while maintaining the facade of Katty—was going to be the hardest game of all.

？