TBG - Chapter 8: The Plan

The luxurious restaurant buzzed with the sounds of clinking glasses and quiet murmurs, but the atmosphere felt charged with anticipation. The sleek, modern design of the space was nothing short of extraordinary—polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of crystal chandeliers above, and the tables were set with gleaming silverware and fine china. Every detail had been meticulously crafted to create an aura of exclusivity. It wasn’t just the food that made this restaurant famous; it was the people who dined here. Celebrities, politicians, and billionaires were regulars in these plush surroundings, and tonight, Theodore Thatcher had joined their ranks.

The moment Theodore entered, the air seemed to shift. His presence commanded attention, even though he didn’t actively seek it. People couldn’t help but glance at the tall, confident figure striding toward a private booth. He exuded an effortless charm and power, qualities that had made him a name not only in business but also in the public eye. The whispers began almost immediately.

Nadia, however, paid no attention to the spectacle around her. She was still getting used to the idea of being in this world, where every eye seemed to follow you, waiting for a glimpse of the famous billionaire. Instead, she focused on her plate, savoring the rich flavors of the meal. A glass of red wine sat in front of her, the deep color reflecting the flickering candlelight, but she barely touched it. The food was exquisite, each bite carefully prepared, but her mind wandered, thinking of the task ahead, the plan that would unfold as the evening wore on.

“Is everything alright?” Theodore’s voice broke through her thoughts, his calm tone contrasting with the flurry of activity around them.

She looked up, offering him a faint smile. “It’s perfect,” she replied, though the word felt hollow, as her thoughts remained distant.

Theodore was the kind of man who never needed to say much. His mere presence had people in the restaurant stealing glances, murmuring about him as if he were some kind of untouchable figure. Nadia couldn’t help but notice how easily he moved through this world of wealth and influence. It was second nature to him, but for her, everything felt foreign, a world she had only seen from the outside. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the eyes of everyone in the room were on them—on her.

As the minutes passed, Theodore’s hand found hers across the table, the touch so subtle that it almost felt like an afterthought. His fingers were warm and sure, but Nadia couldn’t help but notice how his actions seemed almost calculated. She stiffened for a moment, unsure of how to respond, but then she forced a smile, trying to match his composure.

The moment the gesture happened, the flashes started.

The paparazzi had clearly been waiting for this moment. As soon as they stepped out of the restaurant, the camera flashes were blinding, like a barrage of lightning strikes. People were calling Theodore’s name, shouting questions at him, but he said nothing. He raised a hand in front of Nadia, as if to shield her from the constant barrage of flashing lights.

“Mr. Thatcher! Who is she?” one of the photographers shouted, his voice filled with curiosity. Another quickly followed, asking if this was his girlfriend.

Theodore remained silent, his demeanor as cold and impassive as always. Nadia, on the other hand, was caught in the whirlwind. The cameras were relentless, and the questions came faster than she could process. She felt exposed, the bright lights a harsh reminder that her every move was being scrutinized. Yet, she reminded herself of the game she was playing—the role she was pretending to be. This was all part of the plan.

The flashes stopped for a moment as Theodore continued to shield her with his raised hand, but the questions didn’t stop. She could hear murmurs from the crowd, whispers about who she could be. No one knew her, not yet. But soon, they would. Soon, they would know exactly who she was—at least, who she was pretending to be.

As the flashes faded and the reporters were finally satisfied, Theodore released her hand, and they both moved toward the car waiting for them. The night felt heavier now, the pressure of the public eye weighing on both of them.

Inside the car, the silence stretched between them, but it was broken by the sharp sound of Theodore’s phone vibrating. He glanced at the screen, and Nadia knew what was coming. She had seen this play out before—his mother.

Theodore answered without missing a beat, his tone businesslike as always. “What is it?” he asked, his voice clipped.

Nadia could hear the angry voice on the other end, even if she couldn’t make out the words. His mother was upset. 

“Why didn’t you introduce her to the family first?” the voice snapped, its sharp edge unmistakable. “You’ve made a public spectacle out of this. This isn’t how things are done. You know how I feel about appearances.”

Theodore’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “I’m an adult. I don’t need your approval.”

“I expect you to introduce her to the family tomorrow,” his mother demanded, her voice unyielding. 

Later on her voice softened, slowing down as she spoke. "Son, I need to meet her. Please, I just want to be certain you’re making the right choice. As your mother, I have to know who she is."

The line went silent, and Theodore hung up, a slight frown on his face. Nadia didn’t ask about the call, though she could guess what it was about. His mother always had high expectations, and the pressure to meet them was unrelenting.

Nadia had never imagined how famous Theodore truly was. Even in the restaurant earlier, surrounded by well-known individuals, the eyes of the room had been on him. Every moment, every step they took, was measured.

But as she looked at him, his face impassive and distant, she realized that for him, it was just another day. Just another game. And she was playing her part. Nothing more, nothing less.

Nadia leaned back in the plush car seat as they drove away from the scene, her thoughts swirling. The car’s interior was silent, save for the faint hum of the engine, until she finally spoke, her voice laced with curiosity and awe.

“So this is how being well-known and wealthy is,” Nadia began, her eyes distant as she recalled the restaurant filled with influential people and the paparazzi scrambling for a single shot of them. “It’s... mesmerizing in a way. Beautiful, even. But also terrifying.”

Theodore glanced at her briefly, his face unreadable as ever. He didn’t respond, letting her continue.

“I mean,” Nadia said, gesturing vaguely with her hands, “imagine living like this every single day. Everyone’s watching you, studying your every move, waiting for you to slip up. And if someone has a grudge against you, it’s like they’re just sitting in the shadows, plotting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.” She shook her head and let out a soft sigh. “I don’t like it. I could never live like this.”

Theodore’s eyes remained focused on the road ahead, his grip steady on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to,” he said, his tone clipped, cold, and matter-of-fact.

Nadia turned her head to look at him, studying his sharp profile. “You make it sound so simple,” she said, her voice tinged with mild frustration. “But this is your reality, Theo. This is your life. You’re surrounded by power, money, and influence. Do you ever stop and think about the danger that comes with it? About how fragile it all really is?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he drove in silence for a few moments longer before finally speaking. “Danger is a given in my world. You learn to deal with it or you don’t survive.”

His curt reply only seemed to fuel Nadia’s thoughts further. She turned to the window, watching the city lights blur past them. “You make it sound so clinical. Like it doesn’t even bother you. Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”

Theodore’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “You’re overthinking things,” he said flatly.

Nadia scoffed softly, leaning her head against the window. “Overthinking? I’m just trying to understand. But I guess you’re not the type to share your thoughts, are you?”

He didn’t respond, and the silence that followed was heavy.

After a moment, Nadia sighed and shifted in her seat to face him again. “You’re lucky I’m a chatterbox, or this would be the most painfully awkward ride of your life,” Nadia said with a grin.

Theodore shot her a glance, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to fill the silence, Nadianna.”

She smirked slightly at his response, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Fine. I’ll shut up. But don’t expect me to stop being curious. This is all new to me, after all.”

The car pulled into the long driveway of Theodore’s estate, the towering gates opening smoothly as they approached. The conversation—or lack thereof—seemed to hang in the air, unfinished.

As the car came to a stop, Theodore finally turned to Nadia, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Also, don’t expect me to be as cold about it as you are.”

“By the way, don’t call me Nadianna. Ever again. It’s... gross,” Nadia said, her nose scrunching in distaste. “It doesn’t even feel like me. Just call me Nadia. That’s who I am.” 

Theodore’s cold gaze lingered on her, his face unreadable. “It’s just a name,” he replied, his tone clipped and indifferent.

Nadia pressed her lips together, clearly holding back a retort, before exhaling sharply. With a shake of her head, she rolled her eyes, pushed open the car door, and stepped out without another word her heels clicking against the driveway as she made her way inside.

Theodore watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable once again, before following her.