Chapter 314: The Golden Dragon Crashes The Date

The kiss was immediate, heavy, and blatantly territorial. He didn’t care about the setting, the waiters hovering in the distance, or the fact that they were in the middle of a private reservation. Or even the fact that the man she was out on a date with was right in front of him. He never cared.

His lips pressed against hers–they were warm and possessive—his thumb resting firmly against the side of her throat to hold her in place while his fingers cradled her jaw.

April didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her eyes flutter shut for a brief second, meeting his sudden, dominant display with a quiet, practiced calm, even as his sharp demeanor filled the air.

Across the small table, Xavier was literally boiling.

His dark eyes flared with raw fury, his broad frame towering over the candlelit table. In a split second, he reached across, his hand clamping firmly around Nat’s wrist, attempting to wrench Nat’s hand away from April’s neck.

"Get your hands off her," Xavier hissed, his raspy voice shaking with a lethal, suppressed rage that threatened to tear right through his saintly facade. "Now, Nat."

Nat slowly broke the kiss, his lips parting from April’s with a soft, deliberate sound. He didn’t flinch at the bone-crushing grip Xavier had on his wrist. Instead, he simply turned his head, his dark, dangerous eyes locking onto Xavier’s with a lazy, villainous grin that exposed the edge of his sharp teeth.

"Touchy tonight, aren’t we, Reed?" Nat drawled smoothly, his tone laced with taunting amusement. He didn’t pull his hand away from April; instead, his fingers casually stroked down her jawline, completely ignoring the tension radiating from the man across from him. "You had her for dinner. I’m just taking my share of the table."

April tilted her head back, her eyes flicking between Xavier’s white-knuckled grip and Nat’s unbothered, predatory smile.

"You two are going to break something," April noted smoothly, her raspy voice completely unperturbed as she leaned back against her chair. "Sit down, Nat. Or are you planning on standing there until security attempts to drag you out too?"

"Heh, I dare them to," Nat boasted, his red hair catching the dim candlelight like a warning flame.

Anyone in their right mind who recognized that fiery red hair on his head would take several steps back. No sane security guard would dare cross the ruthless boss of the underworld—not unless they had a suicide wish and wanted to offend the Golden Dragon himself.

Nat finally loosened his wrist from Xavier’s grip, not because Xavier forced him, but because he simply chose to. He casually pulled out the chair Oliver had vacated just minutes prior, turning it around and straddling it backward like he owned the entire establishment.

"Besides, security here knows better than to interfere when I’m enjoying myself," Nat added smoothly, resting his chin on his hands as his dark, predatory eyes locked back onto April.

His gaze slowly traveled down her outfit, taking in the white shirt, the silver ’A’ pendant resting against her skin, and the sharp lines of her short skirt. A low, appreciative hum vibrated in his chest. "Look at you. Dressing up like a little executive just to drive us all out of our minds. I’d appreciate it if you undid the first button, sweetheart. There’s so much to see."

Xavier stood there, his large frame rigid and trembling with suppressed rage. His knuckles were white, his dark eyes fixed on Nat as if contemplating tearing the man apart right then and there.

"This was a private dinner, Nat," Xavier gritted out, his voice thick with a lethal, raspy edge. "You have no right to barge in here."

"I have every right when she’s wearing my necklace," Nat purred, his finger extending across the table to lightly tap the silver ’A’ pendant resting right above her chest. He cast a sharp, taunting smirk straight at Xavier’s darkening face. "Fits her nicely, doesn’t it, Reed? A constant reminder of who she actually belongs to."

April simply leaned her head on her hand, completely unbothered by the thick aura of violence radiating between the two powerful men towering over her table.

"I’d appreciate it if you don’t speak like the necklace is a collar, thank you."April spoke up smoothly, and he let out a grinning scoff.

"I wouldn’t dare," he mused.

"And if you’re done making a ruckus, Nat," she added, "you can tell me why you’re actually here. I doubt a ’little birdie’ just happened to drop my location by accident."

Nat’s sharp, predatory smirk widened into a low, rumbling chuckle as he leaned his forearms across the back of the chair.

"For starters, the little birdie wears a pair of glasses and a white coat," Nat drawled lazily, his dark eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

Xavier’s head snapped instantly, his dark eyes cutting sharp across the main dining hall toward the central tables. Sure enough, right near the back, Dr. Oliver Baxter sat back down among his entourage of nervous executives.

As if sensing Xavier’s gaze on him, Oliver slowly raised a hand, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single finger, casting a cool, deadpan look back toward the balcony.

A sharp vein throbbed against Xavier’s temple as his knuckles turned ghost-white against his tailored trousers.

So this was revenge.

Oliver had known full well he couldn’t out-maneuver Xavier’s corporate leverage on his own, so the petty, brilliant doctor had placed a quick call to the one man in the city Xavier had absolutely zero control over; Nat.

Xavier couldn’t pull corporate strings or threaten research grants on a literal dragon who ruled from the dark.

It was a cold, calculated, spiteful play—and it had worked flawlessly.

"Clever bastard," Xavier spat under his breath, his raspy voice laced with pure venom.

Nat let out a loud, unbothered laugh at Xavier’s contorted expression, clearly thoroughly enjoying the chaotic masterpiece Oliver had arranged.

"Oh, come on, Reed. Give the doc some credit," Nat mused, his fingers casually tracing the rim of April’s abandoned wine glass. "He knows how to share the wealth when a host gets greedy."

April turned her head, casting a swift glance back at Oliver—who simply gave her a tiny, barely perceptible nod of satisfaction before returning to his steak.

A faint, highly entertained curve touched April’s lips. So the robot has a petty streak.

She turned her attention back to the red-haired menace sitting across from her, her brown eyes glittering under the soft balcony lights. "So Oliver tipped you off just to spite Xavier, and you actually sprinted all the way here just to crash a date?"

"Sprinted?" Nat scoffed, leaning forward until his sharp face was inches from hers, his dark eyes burning with that familiar, possessive hunger. "Sweetheart, I’d burn down half the city just to make sure you don’t forget I’m still here."

Psycho villain.