(Lunch Wars & Hidden Titles)
Aria didn't come empty-handed.
Of course she didn't.
If she was going to invade Ethan Vale's territory, she was doing it properly—with strategy, presentation, and food good enough to cause emotional damage.
—
Ethan's office at Vale Corporation wasn't just an office.
It was practically a private suite.
Minimalist. Expensive. Slightly intimidating.
And—most importantly—there was a dining area.
Perfect.
Aria placed the lunch containers down with quiet satisfaction.
"I brought enough for two," she said casually.
Ethan glanced at the spread.
Not excessive.
Not flashy.
Just… thoughtful.
Balanced.
"…You planned this," he said.
"Obviously," she replied. "I don't do accidents. Only calculated kindness."
—
As they sat, Aria noticed the stares.
Employees outside.
Staff walking past.
Everyone looking—then immediately looking away the second Ethan's presence registered.
Like prey sensing a predator.
She tilted her head.
"…Do people here always act like you bite?"
Ethan didn't even blink.
"Only when necessary."
Aria snorted.
"Please. No one in this building misunderstood you. That's a full-company consensus."
"…You're very bold today."
"I had protein this morning."
—
They began eating.
Ethan watched her.
Carefully.
Too carefully.
"You don't eat enough," he said suddenly.
Aria paused mid-bite. "…Excuse me?"
"You avoid meat. You pick at vegetables. That's not a meal—that's decoration."
"Wow," she said dryly. "Didn't realize I hired a nutritionist."
"You didn't. I volunteered."
"Unsubscribe."
Still—
She took a piece of meat and ate it.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Just to shut him up.
Temporary compliance. Not obedience.
—
The atmosphere settled.
Calm.
Quiet.
Almost—
Knock.
Both of them paused.
Ethan frowned slightly.
He had clearly set Do Not Disturb.
"…Come in," he said anyway.
The door opened without waiting.
A man walked in confidently, holding a luxury takeout bag like it was a trophy.
"Ethan! I brought you—"
He stopped.
Froze.
Looked at the scene.
Two people.
Eating.
Together.
Silence.
"…Lunch," he finished weakly.
—
Aria blinked.
Then slowly turned to Ethan.
Explanation. Now.
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose like this was already a headache.
"Aria," he said, tone controlled, "this is Kieran Hale. Young master of Hale Group."
Then, to Kieran—
"This is Aria Larkspur."
Pause.
"An old acquaintance."
—
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Aria's smile didn't change.
But her eyes did.
Old acquaintance?
Oh.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
System: "Oof. That's gotta hurt."
Aria (internally): "Relax. I'm not hurt."
Also Aria (internally): "…I will ruin him later."
—
Kieran recovered quickly.
Too quickly.
"Oh! I thought—never mind," he said, laughing it off as he walked in. "Since we're all here, let's eat together."
He opened his meal.
Instant upgrade.
Michelin-level presentation.
Aria glanced at her own food.
Then at his.
Competition detected.
—
Kieran smiled brightly and picked up a slice of steak, placing it onto Aria's plate.
"Try this. It's excellent."
Aria stared at it.
Then at him.
Then back at the steak.
"…It would be disrespectful to the cow if I refused," she said solemnly—and ate it.
Pause.
Chew.
"…Okay," she admitted. "That's unfairly good."
"Right?" Kieran grinned. "You can come over anytime. I'll treat you."
"Bold of you to assume I'm easy to invite."
"You accepted food from me."
"You put it on my plate. That's coercion."
"…I like you already."
—
Ethan's fork paused mid-air.
Something about this interaction…
…was irritating.
Unnecessarily irritating.
—
Kieran leaned on his hand, openly studying Aria.
"You're really pretty."
Aria choked.
Coughed.
Blink.
"…That was direct."
"I don't do subtle," he said cheerfully. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-one."
"Oh, you're younger." He brightened. "Then call me Kieran-ge."
"…I'd rather not."
"Ouch."
"Respectfully."
"That didn't feel respectful."
"It wasn't."
—
Ethan finally spoke.
Flat. Cold.
"Didn't you skip training today?"
Kieran froze.
"…Oh."
Ethan continued, voice calm but deadly.
"If you don't go back now, I'll personally inform your brother."
"…That's emotional violence."
"That's consequences."
"…I'm leaving."
—
Kieran grabbed his things, then turned back dramatically.
"Bye, Ethan. Bye, beautiful—uh—Aria."
He blew a kiss.
Aria waved back lazily. "Study hard."
"…You sound like a teacher."
"You act like a problem."
"Fair."
And just like that—
He was gone.
—
Silence returned.
But it wasn't the same.
Not peaceful.
Not light.
Something… heavier lingered.
—
Ethan spoke first.
"You shouldn't interact with people like him too much."
Aria raised a brow.
"Why? Afraid I'll get stolen?"
"Afraid you'll get exposed."
She stilled.
Ah.
There it was.
The real reason.
"Vale Corporation has enemies. Larkspur Holdings isn't exactly… stable right now," he continued. "If people connect you to me publicly, it could be dangerous."
Aria let out a soft laugh.
"Dangerous for who?"
"…For you."
Liar.
But she tilted her head anyway.
Soft.
Almost vulnerable.
"…So what are we, then?"
Ethan's expression tightened.
She pressed, voice quieter.
"Something real… or just something hidden?"
—
He didn't answer immediately.
That hesitation?
Said everything.
—
Aria looked down.
Perfect timing.
Perfect expression.
A hint of sadness. A trace of restraint.
Oscar-worthy.
"…I understand," she said softly. "It's just… not something that can be seen."
Inside—
She was absolutely not understanding.
Underground relationship? Really?
Ethan Vale, you have guts.
Let's see how long they last.
—
Finally, he spoke.
"…Give me time."
Ah.
The classic line.
Aria almost applauded.
But instead—
She nodded.
Like she believed him.
"Okay."
—
Then she smiled.
Bright again.
Like nothing happened.
Picked up a piece of fish.
Placed it onto his plate.
"Eat. Don't overthink."
"…You trust me that much?"
She met his gaze.
Eyes clear.
Unreadable.
"How could you ever hurt me?"
—
Ethan didn't respond.
Because for the first time—
That sentence felt heavy.
—
After lunch, Aria packed everything neatly.
"I'm leaving."
She stepped closer—
Light hug.
Natural.
Familiar.
Then—
A quick kiss on his cheek.
Gone before he could react.
"See you tonight."
She walked out.
Paused outside.
Turned back.
Waved through the glass.
Gone.
—
Ding.
A message appeared on Ethan's phone.
> Aria: Wait for you to come home for dinner 😊
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then typed—
> Ethan: Okay.
And for reasons he couldn't explain—
That single word felt… insufficient.