Nathaniel had chosen a restaurant tucked away from the city’s noise, far more private than the formality of their last lunch. The lighting was warm, the kind that softened shadows, while the hush of velvet curtains kept the outside world at bay.

He kept her hand in his as they walked in, only releasing when the waiter pulled out her chair. Victoria sat down, a beat behind, still dumbfounded. It was as if she blinked and suddenly, they were already here—together.

“What do you feel like ordering?” Nathaniel asked casually, opening his menu.

Victoria flipped through hers quickly, grateful for something to look at. “I’ll have the pasta,” she said.

Nathaniel’s lips curved. “Pasta. Still your favorite.”

She froze for half a second before replying, a clipped, “Yeah.” Her voice sounded too soft, even to her own ears.

Their drinks arrived. Victoria lifted her glass immediately, taking a long sip just to fill the silence. But when she set it down, his gaze was waiting for hers. She looked away too quickly, fingers tightening around the glass, then took another unnecessary sip.

“Are we really going to sit here in silence?” Nathaniel asked, tone playfully mocking. “You invite me to lunch and don’t even plan on talking? That’s cold, even for you.”

Her brow arched at him. “Then what exactly do you want to talk about?”

He leaned back, studying her like he had all the time in the world. “Well, for starters—we could talk about us.”

Victoria scoffed. “What’s there to talk about us?”

“A lot,” he countered smoothly. “Since our engagement is official now, we could even start planning a date.”

Her jaw tightened. “Unbelievable.”

Nathaniel smirked. “What’s wrong with that? Practical, isn’t it?”

Victoria set her glass down with more force than intended. She was still processing everything—the press conference, her dad’s frustration, and now Nathaniel sitting across from her as if none of it carried any weight.

Finally, she said, “If you really want to talk about us, let’s start with what happened earlier. Why did you have to tell the media about our past?”

“Why?” He tilted his head, amused. “Because it’s the truth. We were each other’s first love.”

She let out a dry laugh, almost a scoff. “First love? Nathaniel, seriously. What does that have to do with our engagement? It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he replied evenly. “Our past still matters to me… even if you could throw it away — and me — as if I were easily replaced. Fate put us back here, together. That’s why this engagement is possible.”

Victoria frowned, skeptical. “You sound almost… sentimental right now. I can’t tell if you’re being genuine or just performing.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Either way, let’s be real. This—whatever is between us now—it’s business. And in business, emotions don’t belong.”

His eyes gleamed at that, sharp and entertained. “So, to you, everything is business?”

“It should be,” she said firmly. “This isn’t some fairytale, Nathaniel. This engagement has contracts, terms, conditions. Both our families’ reputations and fortunes at stake. Don’t tell me you’re naïve enough to confuse business with love. I was raised to keep them separate.”

Nathaniel laughed—an actual laugh, low and warm, though edged with irony.

“You should hear yourself, Victoria. Cold, logical, perfect.”

She stiffened, but the moment was broken when the waiter arrived with their food. Plates were set down between them, and silence reigned until the waiter left.

“You’re making everything so light,” she said at last, her tone sharper than she intended. “This isn’t a joke.”

“You,” Nathaniel said, pointing his fork toward her with a lazy smile, “are too serious. Try having fun sometime.”

Her frustration flared. “Can we, at the very least, be clear about boundaries?”

He ignored her protest, cutting into his food with deliberate ease. “Eat, Victoria. It’ll go cold.”

She frowned at him, a dozen retorts rising and dying in her throat. First he drags her into “talking about us,” and now he dismisses her like her words weighed nothing. Exhaustion pressed against her chest, and she let out a long, quiet sigh. Reaching into her bag, she took out a hair claw, gathered the upper part of her hair, and clipped it neatly in place. Then, picking up her fork, she took a quiet bite of her pasta.

Nathaniel only watched her with a glint in his eyes, satisfied that the game was far from over.