章 22: Elena, Marcus Daughter
Ian was halfway through his meal when the shouting started. It was impossible to ignore.
"You ruined my dress!" Elena's voice was sharp, cold as she glared at the waiter. The young man was fumbling with a spilled drink, apologizing over and over, but Elena wasn't having it. She didn't raise her voice just for the sake of it—no, this was a performance.
"Do you even know what you're doing? I'm the Marquis's daughter! You think I have time for this kind of incompetence?"
Ian kept his eyes on his plate, chewing slowly. This kind of scene wasn't new to him. He'd seen people like her all his life—entitled, self-important, and willing to make a fool of anyone who didn't bend to their will.
Elena didn't even seem to notice him at first. She was too busy throwing daggers at the poor waiter. Then, with a glance around the room, her eyes caught on something. Ian, a big figure that towers over everyone in the restaurant. The true vampire badge on his coat. Her expression shifted, and for a moment, she straightened up, like she'd just noticed a new challenge in the room.
"You," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A soldier. And... a true vampire, I see. How... charming."
Ian didn't flinch. He'd been here before. He took another bite, savoring the moment before replying, "I'm sure you've met plenty of people more charming than me. I like to keep a low profile, you know?"
Elena's lips twitched. "Low profile? With that badge and stupid height? A true vampire soldier, no less. How quaint." Her smile was more like a sneer now.
Ian leaned back, looking at her like she was a child playing dress-up. "You know, people who wave around fancy titles and badges often forget they still have to walk on the ground, sweetheart."
She raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was the joke. "I'm not sure I understand your point."
Ian grinned. "I'm just saying, it doesn't matter how high you stack the lies if you're still buried in them."
The words hit her like a punch to the stomach. She blinked, her face going a little pale. It was subtle, but Ian saw it—her composure cracking.
She struggled to keep her cool. "I—what? You're saying I lie?"
"Not so much lie as... pretend," Ian said, tapping his fingers on the table. "You're pretending you're not just another spoiled kid who can't handle a little mistake."
The sarcasm in her eyes wavered. "You've got a sharp tongue, soldier. Too bad you waste it on me."
Ian chuckled. "I don't waste words. I just choose when to use them."
Elena's face flushed. She opened her mouth, probably to throw another insult, but it caught in her throat. Something was off. She fought to keep her composure, but it felt like her insides were flipping. Had he really just said that?
The words weren't just harsh—they cut deep. And Elena was starting to realize that maybe Ian wasn't just some soldier. Maybe he was something more. The thought made her stomach churn.
"You think you're clever?" Elena spat, though her voice lacked its usual arrogance.
Ian leaned forward, the grin still there. "No. I'm just good at spotting a show when I see one. You're the one who's pretending."
Her grip tightened around her glass. She was fighting it. Fighting the urge to rip him apart. but it was clear now—he wasn't someone easy to deal with.
"Well," she said, her voice finally steady, "enough fun for today, I think. Enjoy your lunch, soldier." She stood up, still looking down at him with a mixture of frustration and... something else.
Ian took another bite of his meal, the smirk never fading. "Oh, I will."
As she left, the tension lingered in the air, but Ian wasn't bothered. There was no need to push it further. He had already said everything that needed to be said.
But one thing was clear—Elena wasn't done. And neither was Ian.
A few moments passed before the silence was broken by another voice.
"You really know how to put people in their place, don't you?" The waiter who'd been caught in the storm earlier stood by Ian's table, still looking a little shaken.
Ian shrugged. "You gotta call it like you see it." He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his tone casual. "Some people don't like the truth. I'm not here to make them comfortable."
The waiter let out a small laugh, clearly relieved. "I think she'll remember that one for a while."
"Good," Ian said with a grin. "She needs to learn something."
The waiter smiled, walking away. Ian finished his meal in peace, knowing he'd just made an enemy. But with enemies like Elena, who needed friends?
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