Chapter 82: The Return of The First Love 3

Scarlet’s hand relaxed, and her dimple peeked through her right cheek.

Lara slowly set her glass down.

And for the first time, she spoke into the tension — not softly, not defensively but with quiet authority.

“I am not an object to be monitored, Doctor Fenn,” she said evenly.

Her gaze moved from Yannis.

To Scarlet, then finally to Ares.

“And I certainly don’t require supervision.”

A heavy silence filled the air, balanced on a knife’s edge.

Because now the battle had shifted.

It wasn’t about men asserting proximity.

Or women claiming history.

It was about Lara deciding who, if anyone, had the right to stand beside her.

Shay suddenly spoke.

“Mommy, I’d like you to change seats with me.”

Her small voice cut cleanly through the tension. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just certain.

She slid off her chair and walked around the table, her little shoes tapping softly against polished marble. Then she reached up and tugged at the hem of Lara’s blouse.

Without hesitation. Without doubt.

Mommy.

The word did not echo. It detonated.

For the briefest fraction of a second, Lara froze. Not because she didn’t want to move.

But because she understood what it meant.

Then she rose. Elegant. Calm.

She exchanged seats with Shay.

Which meant— Ares was now seated between two women.

And Yannis was seated between Shay and Scarlet.

The geometry of the table had shifted.

So had the battlefield.

Yannis’ fingers tightened slightly around his glass. He had positioned himself beside Lara deliberately. Close enough to guide, to observe, to maintain a quiet influence.

Now there was space and Ares occupied it.

He considered protesting, but he didn’t.

Because objecting to a child would make him look petty.

And Yannis was many things, but never a petty person.

Scarlet watched everything.

The way Shay leaned naturally into Lara’s side, as if that position had always belonged to her.

The way Lara’s hand instinctively smoothed the child’s hair.

The way Ares’ shoulders angled — subtly, almost unconsciously — toward Lara.

Not her, the woman who shared his history but toward that governess, that maid.

Scarlet’s smile remained flawless. Polished and charming.

But beneath it, calculation sharpened.

If Larissa Reyes were merely a governess, she could be dismissed, replaced, or transferred.

She could even be silenced.

But this—

This was something else.

A child did not attach herself like that without reason.

And Ares did not shift his body unless his instincts had already chosen.

Scarlet had decisively left Ares before and realized what a loss it was.

She remembered the silence that followed, and how she missed the gentle, loving man she could wrap around her fingers.

And now that man had become so rich and powerful.

She had clawed her way back into this city.

Back into this circle.

Back into Ares’ proximity.

She had not returned to watch another woman quietly take what was once promised to her.

Her gaze slid sideways to Yannis.

The doctor was composed, but the lines around his mouth had hardened.

His attention drifted repeatedly toward Lara, even as Shay asked him an innocent question about the dessert menu.

He answered automatically. Distracted.

So, he was invested.

Not just professionally but also personally.

Scarlet’s mind moved quickly.

If Lara was becoming a problem, she did not need to fight her directly.

She could redirect her.

Encourage proximity between Lara and Yannis.

Highlight their “compatibility.”

Emphasize the doctor’s concern.

A woman recovering from trauma would need stability, gentleness, and medical supervision.

Not a man like Ares.

Yes. That would be cleaner.

Push Lara toward Yannis. Use the doctor as her blade against Lara. Secure Ares without appearing desperate.

Her lashes lowered briefly to conceal the flicker of ambition in her eyes.

Across the table, Ares broke the silence.

“Shay,” he said evenly, “finish your vegetables.”

His tone was mild. But his hand rested lightly against the back of Lara’s chair.

Not touching her. But close enough.

Scarlet saw it. Yannis saw it too.

And Lara felt it.

The invisible claim.

Yannis leaned back in his seat, folding his hands loosely.

“Children gravitate toward stability,” he said casually. “They’re very intuitive.”

His eyes met Ares’.

“They know where they feel safest.”

The statement was neutral. The implication was not.

Ares’ gaze darkened.

“And what are you implying, Doctor Fenn?”

“Nothing,” Yannis replied smoothly. “Just an observation.”

Scarlet decided to intervene before the tension escalated further.

She turned toward Shay with a warm smile.

“You like sitting beside Miss Reyes that much?”

Shay nodded immediately.

“She smells like home.”

An unexpected heavy silence, hung in the air.

Scarlet’s smile faltered for half a second.

Home.

A word far more dangerous than love.

Ares’ fingers curled slightly against the chair.

And for the first time since this lunch began—

His control thinned.

Because this was no longer about old memories.

Or professional boundaries. Or polite territorial games.

This was about foundation, about who belonged.

And if Shay had already decided—

Then the rest of them were merely negotiating a future that was quietly, steadily aligning around Lara.

…

Lunch ended with polished smiles and restrained civility.

Yannis excused himself first, called away by a “patient emergency.”

No one questioned it.

Ares watched him leave. His expression unreadable.

His thoughts deep and still — like dark water that revealed nothing of what moved beneath.

A few minutes later, Lara stood.

She excused herself to go to the restroom.

Scarlet stood at the same time.

Inside the restroom, cool marble reflected soft lighting. The scent of expensive soap lingered in the air.

Lara stood at the sink, slowly washing her hands.

She sensed Scarlet before she saw her.

The soft click of heels and the faint swirl of perfume were a giveaway.

“Larissa,” Scarlet said gently, her voice dipped in honey. “May I borrow you for a moment?”

The sweetness was flawless.

Practiced.

Lara met her gaze in the mirror.

Their eyes locked over porcelain and polished marble.

“Of course,” Lara replied calmly. “Let’s talk outside.”

She turned off the faucet, drying her hands slowly.

She never liked lingering in restrooms.

Too many whispered alliances had begun beside sinks like these.

Too many smiles had sharpened into blades under fluorescent light.

And as Scarlet’s heels clicked softly behind her—

Lara knew.

Whatever waited beyond that door…

Would not be harmless.

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