For a few moments, the only sound was the faint clink of cutlery from the butler arranging dishes—but not from Dominic's side of the table. Ava glanced up and realized he wasn't eating. His eyes were fixed on her, sharp and unreadable, his cutlery untouched.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Vale?" she asked quietly, her voice steady despite her rising nerves.
Dominic said nothing at first, his gaze dropping briefly from her eyes to the empty chair beside him. His meaning was clear.
Ava hesitated. He wants me to sit closer? She stiffened, refusing to be cowed by his silent command. But as the moments stretched, and the butler's subtle glance betrayed even his awareness of the unspoken standoff, her face warmed with embarrassment. She let out a slow, exasperated breath and, against her better judgment, rose from her far seat.
With measured steps, she moved toward the empty chair a few seats down—still keeping a respectable distance, but closer than before. She sat with a quiet rustle of fabric and glanced at him again.
But still, he didn't lift his utensils. Instead, he leaned back slightly in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His expression was composed, but his dark eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief, as though silently saying: Not enough.
Ava's patience frayed. Gritting her teeth, she pushed back her chair and moved to the seat just one spot away from his, her chin tilted defiantly. Their eyes locked, his cool amusement meeting her quiet challenge.
"Mr Vale," she said crisply, her voice low but sharp, "shall we start eating now?"
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Dominic's lips. Without a word, he finally picked up his fork, breaking the standoff. The butler hurried forward, placing the first course in front of them as if a silent battle hadn't just taken place.
Ava exhaled softly, feeling her pulse slow as she reached for her own utensils. What a Childish game—
But even as they began to eat, she felt his eyes on her, watching not with predatory intent, but with a quiet curiosity she couldn't quite decipher. For all his aloofness, Dominic Vale wasn't the monster rumors made him out to be.
His actions—demanding proximity but never forceful, waiting for her to move on her own.
Great! Let's continue from Ava seated near Dominic at the dining table, now diving into the subtle conversation and gestures that hint at his true nature. We'll also showcase his green flag traits through his words and actions, while maintaining an intriguing, slow-burn dynamic between them.
As the butler set down the first course—a delicate arrangement of seared scallops and a crisp microgreen salad—Ava found herself acutely aware of every sound in the room. The clink of cutlery, the faint rustle of the tablecloth, and the almost imperceptible exhale from Dominic as he finally began to eat.
Despite her internal protests, the food was exquisite—delicately seasoned, the flavors perfectly balanced. Ava took small bites, keeping her posture composed, her gaze lowered, though she couldn't ignore the weight of his eyes occasionally drifting her way.
For a long stretch of moments, the silence between them reigned. No one else dined with them, and the absence of conversation felt both oppressive and oddly intimate. Ava stole a glance upward, only to find Dominic watching her with a subtle, unreadable expression.
"Is the food not to your liking?" he asked quietly, his tone smooth, with none of the mocking edge she'd half-expected.
Ava shook her head quickly. "No, it's excellent. Thank you," she said, her voice polite but distant.
Dominic gave a slow nod, as though satisfied by her honesty. His gaze softened—not overtly, but enough that it no longer felt like a dagger of ice. He leaned forward slightly, his tone casual. "You said you work at a florist shop on weekends. That's a curious contrast to your corporate background."
Her pulse skipped. He remembered that?
"Yes," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "It's… peaceful. Flowers don't argue, don't demand overtime, and don't come with office politics." She offered a faint smile, which surprised even her.
A corner of Dominic's mouth lifted, a fleeting smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "A sensible choice," he murmured.
The conversation lulled again, but this time the silence felt less oppressive, more contemplative.
As the butler cleared away the first course and replaced it with the main—a perfectly roasted sea bass with a delicate citrus glaz
She glanced at him again, noticing the faint crease between his brows. His mind seemed elsewhere, his fork paused midway to his plate.
What's he thinking?
Dominic's thoughts, though hidden behind his composed mask, were far from calm. Is she truly unaware of who was behind the abduction? Or is she faking innocence? His mind wrestled with the conflicting images of her—
His fingers curled slightly around his wine glass, the cool stem a grounding point. Why does it matter if she's here, eating dinner with me?
Despite the swirl of questions in his mind, a small voice—
His gaze settled on her, catching the subtle arch of her brow, the way she delicately cut her fish. The elegance wasn't rehearsed or affected. It was simply…her.
The butler returned quietly, pouring a light red wine into Ava's glass. She hesitated before lifting it to her lips. "Do secretaries usually drink with their bosses as well?" she murmured, her voice edged with a hint of defiance.
Dominic's lips twitched. "Only if the boss prefers it," he replied, his voice a shade warmer than before. He watched as she took a cautious sip, the wine's crimson staining her lips faintly.
"You're full of questions tonight," he said softly, leaning forward just enough that his presence became a quiet pull.
Ava met his gaze, determined not to be intimidated. "Maybe I wouldn't have so many if I wasn't here dining in a mansion that feels more like a dreamland castle," she shot back, a spark of humor threading her tone.
Dominic's laugh—low and unexpected—broke the tension like a glass shattering on stone. It was a rare, genuine sound, one that made the butler glance up in mild surprise.
"Fair enough," he conceded, shaking his head faintly. "You're not what I expected."
Neither are you, she thought but didn't dare voice aloud.
The rest of the meal passed with fewer words but an easier air between them. Ava's earlier apprehension gradually faded, replaced by a reluctant curiosity.
As the dessert—an airy, dark chocolate mousse topped with a delicate gold leaf—was set before them, Ava's phone buzzed faintly in her lap. She discreetly checked it, biting back a laugh at the message from Leah.
Leah:"I bet Dominic Vale is hot in person. He probably smolders when he looks at you. I'm jealous."
Diana:"Or maybe he's just a jerk who makes his secretaries sit and watch him eat while plotting world domination."
Ava's lips twitched. She discreetly tucked her phone away and glanced at Dominic, who was watching her with a faint arch of his brow.
"Something amusing?" he asked, his voice smooth.
"Just friends," she said lightly. "Nothing important."
Dominic said nothing, but his expression softened imperceptibly, the ice melting ever so slightly from his gaze.
As the butler began to clear the dessert plates, Ava rose quietly. "Thank you for the meal," she said, her voice calm.
"You'll join me from tomorrow onwards," Dominic said, his tone more a statement than a request.
Ava blinked, feeling a flicker of irritation and reluctant intrigue. "Is that an order?"
Dominic's eyes gleamed, his lips curving faintly. "Let's call it…an expectation."
Ava hesitated, her hand resting lightly on the back of the chair. "I suppose I'll have no choice."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her. "No, you do. But you'll choose to stay."
The weight of his words, the quiet certainty behind them, left her momentarily breathless. She couldn't quite tell if it was a promise, a challenge, or something else entirely.
Without another word, she inclined her head and turned to leave, feeling the heat of his gaze follow her all the way to the door.