Chapter 125: Where It Will All Be Revealed

The moment her feet hit the asphalt, Chloe dropped her overnight bag and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me into a long, deep kiss that tasted like ocean air and familiar comfort.

"I missed you so much," she murmured, pulling back just an inch and wrapping her hands around my shoulders. She squeezed my arms, her eyes scanning me with a sudden, playful spark. "Wait... have you been working out? Your chest and shoulders feel way broader."

"You noticed, huh?" I smiled, sliding my arms around her waist.

She took off her designer sunglasses, letting them hang from the collar of her top, and flashed me a bright, captivating grin. "Of course I noticed. Now, let’s get out of here. I’ve been on a plane for hours and I am absolutely starving."

"I’ve got just the spot," I said, grabbing her heavy leather luggage and tossing it into the trunk of the car.

"Oh, I already know where we’re going," Chloe said smoothly as she slid into the passenger seat, adjusting the mirror. "I’ve been reading the news all morning on the flight over. The entire coast is talking about this incredible new place that completely obliterated Durev’s gala last night. LUMEN, right? We’re going straight there."

I paused for half a second with my hand on the trunk lid, taking a quiet, steadying breath. Of all the places on the island.

"LUMEN it is," I said, closing the trunk with a firm click and getting into the driver’s seat.

I fired up the engine, pulled out of the private hangar, and zoomed off down the coastal highway. Side by side with Chloe, heading directly toward Patricia’s pass, I knew the universe had a funny way of forcing cards onto the table.

As the coastal highway stretched out before us, Chloe leaned back in her leather seat, watching the turquoise water glisten under the island sun.

"So, tell me about this chef," Chloe said, turning her head to look at me, a curious, intelligent glint in her eyes. "The articles said Durev tried to completely crush her, and then out of nowhere, some anonymous backing built her this world-class showroom overnight. That has your signature written all over it."

I kept my hands steady on the wheel, my eyes on the road as I gave her a simple, grounded summary. "Her name is Patricia. Durev framed her for health code violations at Tokyo Therapy House using forged labels to steal her credit and ruin her standing. I got my hands on the raw footage, backed her team, hired Olden Mante to train her, and gave her the platform to take back what was hers."

Chloe shook her head with a faint, admiring laugh, taking off her hair clip and letting her hair spill over her shoulders. "It honestly amazes me sometimes... how many people you’ve quietly pulled out of the fire. You just step in, build an entire structure around them, and hand them the keys."

"She had the talent," I said quietly. "She just needed a fair fight."

I shifted the conversation, turning to look at her for a second. "What about you? How’s school treating you?"

Chloe threw her head back with a dramatic groan, rubbing her temples. "Don’t even get me started on law school. It is an absolute nightmare right now. Case briefs, endless readings, professors who act like sleep is a personal insult... it’s soul-crushing."

She turned her whole body in the seat toward me, her eyes softening as a teasing smirk played on her lips. "Honestly, I’d much rather talk about you. I came to this island to escape torts and contracts, not recount them. Besides, you look way too good today for us to be talking about law school."

"Oh, really?" I teased back, giving her a quick, sideways glance. "So you just flew across the ocean to objectify your boyfriend?"

"100%," she laughed, resting her hand lightly over mine on the gear shift. "And I have zero regrets."

We pulled up to LUMEN a few minutes later. The valet took the keys, and I held the door open for Chloe as we stepped out into the warm ocean air.

When she walked through the entrance, Chloe stopped dead in her tracks.

The interior was bathed in natural afternoon light, casting a soft glow over the white alabaster stone, pristine glass partitions, and polished marble floors. But what drew a breathless whisper from her lips was the floor-to-ceiling panoramic glass wall at the far end of the dining room—framing a uninterrupted, cinematic view of the vast, deep blue ocean stretching out to the horizon.

"Ethan..." Chloe murmured, looking around the breathtaking room, completely mesmerized. "This place... it’s absolute perfection."

The maître d’ ushered us to a prime table right alongside the panoramic glass wall, the crashing waves laying a serene backdrop for the afternoon.

A waitress stepped up with two gilded menus, placing them down with a warm, polished smile. Naturally, it wasn’t Patricia—as the executive chef running a packed house, her place was on the pass, directing her brigade through the afternoon rush.

Chloe scanned the high-concept menu, her brow furrowing slightly in amused confusion. "Okay, I have zero idea what half these French and Japanese terms mean," she laughed softly, pointing to an intricate seafood course, "but the name sounds absolutely delicious. I’ll take this one."

"Excellent choice, ma’am," the waitress noted, jotting it down.

I kept it light and clean. "Just give me the dry-aged striploin, medium-rare, with a side of roasted market greens."

As the waitress went to gather the menus, I leaned back in my chair, catching her attention with a subtle gesture. "When you drop the ticket at the pass, please let Chef Patricia know that Ethan is at table four and would love a quick word."

"Right away, sir."

Chloe leaned forward on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands as she looked at me with a playful, intrigued smile. "Calling out the executive chef on our first ten minutes here? Look at you acting like you own the place."

"Just making sure my girlfriend gets the absolute best service on the island," I grinned back, taking a slow sip of water.

Through the glass showroom partition in the center of the restaurant, I saw the waitress approach the pass and hand the note to Patricia. Patricia looked up from her wheel, her eyes drifting past the line and locking onto our table—taking in the sight of Chloe and me sitting together under the bright ocean light.

The waitress dropped our plates with immaculate presentation—Chloe’s seafood dish steaming with a delicate, fragrant foam, and my steak seared to absolute perfection.

Chloe picked up her fork, taking a small bite and letting out a quiet hum of delight. "Oh, wow. Okay, she really is a genius. This is unbelievable."

I set my cutlery down, looking straight across the table at her. The atmosphere between us shifted into something serious, grounded, and completely focused.

"Chloe," I said, my voice low, mature, and steady. "Before we eat, there’s something I need to tell you. Straight up, face-to-face."