The trio arrived at the private booth, but the moment Remi Crawford saw who was sitting inside, her face fell.

Evangeline Montgomery was already settled into a seat beside Marcellus Alexander. Left with no other choice, Remi shuffled inside and took a seat next to Damian Spencer.

Damian raised a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Am I really that disappointing to look at, Miss Crawford?"

"Not at all, Mr. Spencer. You’re overthinking it."

"Remi, let's order," Evangeline said, quickly smoothing over the mounting tension.

The four of them settled on a light, refreshing spread, anchored by the main course: a massive, golden-brown roasted lamb. Moments later, the dish arrived, the scent of succulent, charred meat filling the air so intensely it was impossible not to salivate.

Remi’s eyes lit up. "Wow, that smells incredible!"

"Tell me about it," Evangeline chuckled. "We’ve been living on nothing but caffeine and stress at the studio lately. Eat up, Remi, you look like you’re wasting away."

Remi grinned and nodded. Beside them, Marcellus picked up his carving knife. With surgical precision, he sliced along the spine and sheared through the ribs. Every movement was fluid, rhythmic, and undeniably graceful. He set a perfectly portioned plate of rib meat down in front of Evangeline.

"Marcellus, you’re the best!" Evangeline beamed at him, her eyes sparkling. For a moment, the rest of the room ceased to exist; it was just the two of them, drowning in their own little bubble of intimacy.

"Ahem!" Damian cut in, his voice dripping with mock-annoyance. "Are you two finished? I haven't even had a bite yet, and I’m already stuffed from watching this lovey-dovey nonsense."

"If you're a single soul, you just have to get used to the feast," Marcellus replied, not breaking his gaze from Evangeline as he poured her a glass of red wine.

"You weren't this insufferable before, Marcellus. Honestly? You’re acting like a total simp now." Damian rolled his eyes, but he didn't miss a beat. He picked up his own knife, carving a slice of meat and sliding it, almost casually, onto Remi’s plate.

Remi blinked, startled by the gesture. Damian remained perfectly stoic, playing it off as a simple act of gentlemanly conduct. She didn't dare refuse; doing so would make her look small-minded. She picked up a piece, chewing slowly.

"Mmh, that’s actually delicious. Evangeline, you have to try this."

The meal drifted by in a relaxed, tipsy haze. By the time they finished, both women were feeling the effects of the wine.

"Are you two heading back?" Marcellus asked.

Remi leaned her head on her hand, her eyes slightly glazed as she nodded. "Yeah, we really squeezed this time in. We’ve been swamped."

Evangeline nodded in agreement.

"Then Miss Crawford will take Damian’s car," Marcellus commanded. "Evangeline is coming with me. I’ll have someone else drop off your cars."

"No way! He’s going to dump me on the side of the road!" Remi protested, her entire body rigid with refusal.

Damian covered his eyes, sounding genuinely exasperated. "I told you, that was a joke! I’m not actually going to leave you stranded."

After much coaxing, Remi was finally shoved into the backseat, where she retreated into the corner like a terrified rabbit.

"Relax," Damian muttered, his voice dropping an octave. "I’m not going to eat you."

"Hmph!" Remi ignored him, pointedly staring out the window.

In the other car, Evangeline was already tucked against Marcellus’s chest, her fingers tracing the edge of his shirt. She looked up at him, her expression dazed and vulnerable, a dangerous mix of innocence and intoxication. "I’m just checking to see if you’ve been keeping up with your workouts."

"Evangeline," he whispered, his eyes dark with a desperate hunger. "Come home to Elysian Estate with me tonight. Please."

He leaned his forehead against hers, rubbing softly. "You haven’t spent real time with me in days."

Evangeline couldn't resist the soft, pleading tone. She surged forward, pressing her wine-warmed lips to his, the single syllable "Okay" escaping into his mouth. Marcellus didn't hesitate, his large hand cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, a silent confession of all the days he had spent missing her.

Meanwhile, in the other car, Remi was still pressed against the door frame. Damian finally lost his patience. He grabbed her arm, hauling her firmly into his lap.

"Is the thought of me really that repulsive?" he growled.

Remi was pinned against the upholstery, their faces barely five inches apart. The heat radiating from his skin and the scent of his cologne overwhelmed her senses, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest. She held her arm up as a shield between them, refusing to meet his eyes. Her face was flushed, a deep, rosy red from the wine and the proximity.

Damian, caught in a moment of madness, leaned in closer. His composure fractured, and his lips brushed against her forehead.

Remi’s eyes went wide. She shoved him back, frantically wiping at her forehead. "Have you lost your mind, Damian?"

Damian pulled back, his expression darkening with regret. "I’m sorry. I just... I couldn't help myself."

*Like hell you couldn't,* Remi thought, rolling her eyes and scooting as far away as possible. *Is this man a psycho?*

The silence for the rest of the drive was suffocating. Once they pulled up to her building, Remi didn't wait for a goodbye. She slammed the car door shut—a sharp, final sound—and sprinted toward the entrance. Damian watched her go, his eyes unreadable, making no move to stop her.

When Marcellus arrived at Elysian Estate, Evangeline was sound asleep in his arms. He carried her inside, carefully bypassing the staff with a sharp gesture for silence. He laid her down on the silk sheets of the master bed, watching her in the moonlight. Her lashes fluttered, her breath carrying a faint, sweet tang of wine. The natural flush on her cheeks and the small mole at the corner of her eye made her look breathtakingly alluring.

Marcellus leaned down, his restraint finally snapping. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, and finally, the bridge of her nose. When he reached her lips, Evangeline stirred, sensing the heat, and tilted her head to meet his.

The room grew heavy with the sound of their ragged, intertwined breathing. Clothing was discarded, scattered across the floor in the dark, as they lost themselves in the long, feverish heat of the night.