The dinner

The restaurant was far too elegant for Emily's liking.

Glass walls overlooked downtown Kuala Lumpur, and soft jazz floated under the glow of warm, amber chandeliers. White-clothed tables were dotted with business types, couples, and the kind of people who didn't need to glance at prices.

Emily smoothed her skirt and checked her reflection in her phone screen for the fifth time.

She was early. Ryan was late.

Of course.

A waiter guided her to a corner table. "Mr. Lucas Lee has arrived."

Her heart jumped.

Seated alone was a man who didn't look up immediately. His posture was perfect, one leg crossed, fingers absently scrolling through his phone. He wore a crisp, tailored navy suit, shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar, no tie. His black hair was slicked back neatly, and his jawline looked like it had been carved in court.

Emily approached, unsure if to smile or salute.

"Lucas?" she ventured.

He looked up. His eyes were steel-grey — sharp, unreadable.

"Emily Chen," he said, rising smoothly. He didn't offer a handshake. "You're early."

"You're earlier," she replied, trying to keep her tone polite. "Ryan should be here soon."

Lucas gestured for her to sit. "He's always late."

She sat, and immediately regretted her choice of dress. Too casual? Too formal? Did she look like someone pretending to marry his brother?

"I've heard a lot about you," he said, studying her.

"Same," she replied, reaching for her water to cover the awkwardness.

A pause.

"I didn't expect Ryan to bring someone like you home," Lucas continued. "No offense."

"What kind of someone did you expect?" Emily asked, voice sharper than intended.

Lucas tilted his head. "Someone… less thoughtful. Ryan has a habit of chasing escape more than substance."

Emily said nothing.

A waiter came with menus. Lucas waved his away. "I've ordered. I hope you don't mind Malaysian fusion."

"Not at all," she said, forcing a smile. "I grew up on nasi lemak and sambal petai."

That earned her the faintest twitch of a smirk. "Noted."

She sipped her water. "Do you live in KL?"

"I split time between London and here," he replied. "I'm currently overseeing the expansion of our family's law firm. We have a branch in Damansara Heights."

So that explained the posture, the suit, the courtroom stare.

Emily nodded. "That sounds intense."

"It is."

The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring.

Thankfully, Ryan arrived—hair slightly tousled, apologetic grin in place.

"Sorry! Traffic was insane."

Emily caught the quick glance Lucas shot at his watch.

"No problem," Lucas said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Ryan sat between them and immediately tried to shift the mood. "You two already met? Great. I was afraid you'd kill each other before appetizers."

Emily laughed a little too quickly. Lucas didn't laugh at all.

The food arrived soon — soft-shell crab nasi lemak, butter prawn linguine, and a steaming hot bowl of sup tulang.

Ryan dove into the conversation. "So, Em and I met in uni. Final year housing project. She was the one who kept the team alive, to be honest."

Emily added, "He nearly forgot to submit the entire blueprint. I threatened to staple it to his forehead."

Ryan grinned. "She did. That's how I knew she was special."

Lucas's eyes flicked between them. "And when did this… relationship start?"

Emily's hand froze on her spoon.

Ryan jumped in. "Couple of months ago. Kind of snuck up on us."

Lucas arched a brow. "Interesting timing."

Emily forced a laugh. "Love doesn't follow a calendar."

"I suppose not," Lucas said, then added, "Though people do follow incentive."

Ryan's smile tightened. "Lucas."

Lucas looked at Emily again. "What does your family think of all this?"

"My dad's… not well," she said carefully. "He's happy I'm doing something stable."

Lucas's expression softened a fraction. "And your work? I understand you're juggling a lot."

"I do some tutoring," Emily said. "And part-time at a boutique in Suria KLCC."

Lucas gave a nod but didn't comment further.

When dessert arrived—gula melaka cheesecake—Ryan took a chance to nudge Emily's foot under the table. "Still think I'm a bad actor?"

She smirked. "You're tolerable."

Lucas watched them in silence. His gaze wasn't openly hostile, but it was weighing, measuring.

As they exited the restaurant, Lucas paused by the valet.

He turned to Emily. "He trusts easily. I don't. It's nothing personal."

She met his gaze. "Maybe trust is a luxury some people can't afford. But sincerity shouldn't be a debt."

Lucas studied her one last time, then walked toward his car.

Ryan exhaled. "That went well."

Emily looked at him. "That man gives off CIA energy."

Ryan laughed. "You should see him when he's really suspicious."

Emily swallowed hard, because part of her already knew—

He was.