The Unwanted Dinner
The silence in the car was so heavy that Lu Mei felt it pressing against her ribs. The city lights flashed past the window in streaks, but she kept her gaze fixed outside, refusing to meet Li Shen's cold profile. She could still feel the heat of his hand from earlier when he had yanked her away from the lobby, as if she had been caught doing something indecent rather than simply speaking to an old friend.
"Was that Chen Hao?" Li Shen's voice finally cut through the stillness, sharp and controlled.
She stiffened. "It's none of your business."
His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. "Everything about you is my business now."
She gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, right. Because I'm your wife. Not because you actually care."
His jaw ticked. "I don't like sharing what's mine."
The words made her stomach twist. Mine. As if their marriage certificate was a chain and he was the one holding the other end.
Before she could answer, the car slowed to a stop in front of a sleek, high-end restaurant. The doorman rushed forward, opening her door with a bow.
"I'm not hungry," she said flatly, crossing her arms.
"You will be," he replied, stepping out and waiting for her like a man who wouldn't take no for an answer. His expression left no room for argument.
She bit back the urge to argue further. Fighting with him in public would only draw more attention — something she didn't want. With a sigh, she stepped out, following him into the dimly lit interior. The scent of jasmine tea and roasted duck filled the air.
But the moment they reached the private dining room, she stopped short.
Inside sat Madam Li — her mother-in-law — dressed in an elegant silk cheongsam, her hair in a perfect bun. Across from her was a man in his mid-forties, wearing a well-tailored suit, his sharp gaze assessing Lu Mei in a single glance.
"This is Mr. Qiao," Madam Li said smoothly. "Li Shen's godfather. You'll show him respect."
Lu Mei bowed politely, masking her unease. "Good evening."
Mr. Qiao's lips curved faintly. "So you're the young bride I've heard so much about." His tone was neutral, but she couldn't miss the weight in his words — as if he was still deciding whether she was worth the chair she was sitting on.
The meal began, but it was far from comfortable. Madam Li asked pointed questions about Lu Mei's upbringing, her education, and her parents, each inquiry laced with the same hidden blade: You're not good enough.
Li Shen said little, occasionally glancing at her, but never intervening. That stung more than the questions themselves.
At one point, Madam Li smiled faintly and said, "You must understand, marriage into our family comes with certain… expectations. A wife's role is to support her husband and his business. Personal ambitions must take a back seat."
Lu Mei's chopsticks froze midway to her mouth. "With respect, Madam Li, I believe a marriage should be a partnership, not ownership."
The air thickened. Madam Li's eyes hardened. Mr. Qiao's brows lifted slightly in interest.
Li Shen's deep voice broke in. "Enough."
But the damage was already done.
They finished the meal in silence. When they left the restaurant, the night air felt heavy and suffocating. Li Shen opened the car door for her, but she hesitated.
"You let her speak to me like that," she said quietly.
His gaze was unreadable. "You handled yourself well."
"That's not the point," she snapped, finally meeting his eyes. "Do you even want me here? Or am I just a pawn in whatever game you're playing with your family?"
Something flickered in his expression — frustration, maybe even regret — but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Get in the car, Lu Mei."
She did, but the ride back to the villa was steeped in silence again, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
When they arrived, she didn't wait for him. She went straight upstairs, shutting the bedroom door behind her. Her chest ached with a mix of anger and something else she didn't want to name.
Downstairs, Li Shen lingered in the darkened living room, staring at the unopened bottle of wine on the table. He had brought it home, thinking maybe… maybe tonight could be different. But it wasn't.
And as the night deepened, both of them lay awake in separate worlds — two people bound by paper and pride, wondering when the thin thread between them would snap.