Chapter 2

Genevieve Ray brushed off the memories as she arrived at the bistro's parking lot. After parking her car, she grabbed her purse and headed inside. Approaching the entrance, she spotted Mac Stewart and Nayeli Long, surrounded by Mac’s friends. They were too engrossed in discussing her and Mac’s divorce to notice her presence.

One of Mac’s friends quipped, "Mac, did you really split up? Your ex-wife was crazy about you. Is this just a pretend divorce?"

Mac casually tossed the divorce agreement onto the table. "It’s only for a year. She's always been sensible."

His friend scanned the documents and shook his head. "Isn’t she a bit too accommodating? I thought she was expecting. Is she planning to pull a fast one once the year’s up?"

Mac’s expression grew stern. "She wouldn’t dare."

Another friend noted Nayeli's discomfort and nudged his buddy, "Stop bringing up Genevieve. She was just a secretary-turned-girlfriend. Our Mac was the one calling the shots. Nayeli is the real deal now."

The friend quickly agreed, "Absolutely, you’re the real deal, Nayeli."

Nayeli’s face relaxed, with a small smile emerging, watching Mac attend to her. His friends laughed, "You and Genevieve are over, so why not make it official with Nayeli? Everyone knows you never really got over her."

Nayeli gazed at Mac with shy anticipation.

Mac simply smiled at Nayeli in his arms without committing or denying, an amused expression on his face. Meanwhile, Genevieve gave a scornful smile. They hadn’t even finalized their divorce, yet here he was, parading around with his mistress seeking validation.

Genevieve coolly walked past them and followed the server to her private dining area. The server came and went, bringing the dishes she had pre-ordered.

She expected another server to approach her table, but when she looked up, surprise flickered across her face. "Evan Ray?"

Evan Ray stood there in a casual black suit, confidently towering over her. His light brown eyes held a distant chill, and his demeanor was commanding and aloof. His deep voice cut through the air, "Dining alone? Mind if I join you?"

Without waiting for a reply, he extinguished his cigarette on the edge of a dish, pulled a chair next to her, and sat down, leaving Genevieve no room to refuse.

Genevieve felt a wave of discomfort. If Mac was a noteworthy figure among London’s wealthy elite, then Evan was top-tier. The Ray family wielded influence in business and politics, with a legacy spanning a century, often dubbing him the "Prince of London Society."

The Stewart family maintained their status through their alliance with the Rays; even Mac rarely succeeded in inviting Evan to gatherings. Over the years with Mac, Genevieve encountered Evan at a few events. Each time, Evan would sit quietly in a corner, exuding a presence that was hard to ignore, yet he was never intrusive.

One incident particularly stood out—when a man made a derogatory remark about Genevieve, suggesting an exchange for business favors, Evan smashed a glass dish over his head, leaving the man bleeding and unconscious, all before Mac could react. Evan calmly wiped his hands, dismissing the event with a single word: "Trash."

Genevieve never kidded herself into thinking Evan did it for her; she assumed he merely disapproved of the man’s behavior. Still, she had awkwardly expressed thanks. Evan had barely glanced at her, acknowledged her with a low "hmm," and walked away.

Genevieve reevaluated her opinion of him—not the easiest temperament, but fundamentally decent. Now, given their scant acquaintance, she couldn’t fathom why Evan would seek her out for a meal.

Before she could question further, Evan picked up a fork and sampled a braised lamb shank, as if he really was just there for the food.

Genevieve fidgeted with her fingers, searching for a way to act naturally. Suddenly, she met Evan's steady gaze, and he spoke up:

"I heard you got divorced. Congrats."

"Mac’s off flaunting his fling. How about some poetic justice with a new partner?"

"I'm single, twenty-eight, six-foot-four, no bad habits or skeletons in the closet. I could use a wife."

"Marry me, and get your revenge?"