CHAPTER 2- The Dinner

Freya sat frozen in her chair, Mark's question hanging in the air between them. The crystal chandeliers of the upscale restaurant suddenly felt too bright, too exposing. His arrogance in watching her for two hours before approaching her made her blood boil.

"Let me be clear," she said, keeping her voice steady despite her rising temper. "I have no interest in playing whatever game you think this is. So why don't we end this charade now?"

Mark flashed a fake smile. "One date isn't enough for me to decide if I want you or not, Ms. Freya." he drawled, leaning back in his chair with the confidence of someone who'd never heard the word 'no' before. "Especially someone who shows up in combat boots clearly trying to make a statement."

His words made her skin crawl. The casual arrogance in his voice, the way he looked at her like she was another item on the menu – it all confirmed exactly why she couldn't stand him

Freya reached for her leopard-print purse and pulled out a business card, dropping it on the table between them like a barrier. "If you're so desperate to see me again, book an appointment at my office like everyone else," she said, rising from her chair. "I'm a busy person, and this" – she gestured between them – "is not worth my time." I'm VP of Operations, not entertainment for your evening."

She strode out, leaving him and his ego behind in the glow of those pretentious chandeliers. Her dramatic exit felt like a victory – until the next morning.

"Ms. Freya?" Her assistant Stephanie poked her head into the office. "The CEO from Stars Company is here for the 10 AM meeting."

"Perfect timing." Freya stood, smoothing her charcoal pencil skirt. She'd been looking forward to finally meeting the CEO after months of email exchanges.

The moment she stepped into the reception area, her stomach dropped. There stood Mark Wilson, looking infuriatingly composed in a perfectly tailored navy suit. That same arrogant smile from last night played on his lips.

What game is this bullhead playing now?

"Mr. Wilson," she managed through gritted teeth, extending her hand professionally. "What an... unexpected surprise."

He grasped her hand firmly, holding on a moment too long. "The pleasure's all mine, Ms. Freya."

She led the group to the boardroom, painfully aware of his presence behind her. As she launched into her presentation about her division's performance, Mark kept derailing her with questions that had nothing to do with business.

"Your company's growth is impressive," he interrupted, "almost as impressive as how different you look from our dinner date. Though I must say, the power suit is even sexier on you, than I have seen in most ladies."

Heat crept up her neck as their staff exchanged curious glances. "Everyone, please give us a moment," she announced, her voice tight with controlled anger.

As the last person filed out, she whirled to confront him, but Mark was already in her space. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Careful now. We wouldn't want any rumors circulating about last night's dinner, would we?"

"Get out of my office," she hissed.

"Dinner. 8 PM. Same place." He pulled back, satisfaction written across his face. "Don't worry – I won't make you wait two hours this time." he gave a sexy wink and strolled out.

She watched in fury as he strolled out of the boardroom like he owned it, leaving her with the sinking realization that he'd planned this ambush all along. She wondered if this was one of her dad’s games again or it was just a coincidence.

The workday ended in a blur, Freya’s thoughts circling back to Mark and his infuriating power play at her office. She'd chosen her outfit – deciding to let things flow today, she picked one of her signature dresses which were mostly neutral shades of navy, black and grey. They're all dull and professional color's. She went ahead to choose a Black relaxed fit gown unrevealing of her curvy fit figure that stopped below her knees. No more games.

Now, standing before the restaurant's gleaming doors, she braced herself up for another round.

Mark was already at their table seated at a corner table, looking irritatingly at ease in a charcoal suit with the top button undone when she arrived, right on time. His eyes tracked her approach, but she detected something different in his expression – a bit more sensual and flirty.

"Ten minutes," she said, sitting down. "Tell me what you really want."

"You just got here," he replied smoothly. "The wine hasn't even been poured. Why rush?"

"Because I—""

Freya's retort died in her throat as she caught sight of a familiar figure two tables away. David. Her ex-husband sat with his arm draped around a woman who couldn't be more than twenty-five, already half-drunk and wearing that nasty smile she remembered too well.

Of course he'd show up here. Of course he'd—

David noticed her staring and a nasty smile spread across his face. He whispered something to his date before standing up and strolling over.

"Well, if it isn't my workaholic ex-wife," David's slurred voice cut through her thoughts as he approached their table. "Finally found someone willing to put up with your... dedication to the office?"

Before Freya could respond, Mark rose smoothly from his chair. He stepped in, his eyes turning cold. Being all defensive, Freya was shocked that this side of him existed

"I don't believe we've met," Mark said, his voice deadly quiet. "I'm Mark Wilson. And if you ever speak to her like that again, you'll find out exactly how unpleasant I can make your life."

David's face went pale as recognition hit. Everyone in their industry knew the Wilson name. He stammered an apology and retreated quickly.

Freya stared at Mark as he sat back down, straightening his cuffs as if nothing had happened, she was stunned and out of words. Fiancé? The word echoed in her head as he sat back down, straightening his cuffs as if nothing had happened.

"Now," he said, reaching for the wine list with a satisfied smirk, "about that sexy dress you are putting on...."