Chapter 344: If It Works, It Works

Nat didn’t say another word. He abruptly pushed his chair back with a heavy scrape against the marble floor, stood up, and crossed the short distance toward the head of the table in long, deliberate strides.

Before April could react, Nat leaned down, his shadow completely covering her under the bright morning light. His calloused fingers cupped her jaw, tilting her chin up firmly. He brought his mouth down on hers, taking her lips with a sudden, overwhelming heat.

It wasn’t a gentle, polite greeting, nor was it a brief kiss to mark his territory. It was wet, wild, and intoxicatingly deep, his tongue tangling with hers as his thumb caressed her cheekbone. April’s eyes fluttered closed, her hands instinctively coming up to rest against his chest as she kissed him back with equal, breathless heat, completely abandoning her tea.

The dining room went dead silent, the heavy tension crackling as the other men watched in motionless, simmering fury.

When Nat finally pulled back, a thin, glistening trail of saliva lingered between their lips for a split second before snapping. His chest heaved against her hands, his eyes burning with a dark, satisfied triumph.

Slowly, Nat ran the flat of his tongue over his lower lip, savoring the sweet, lingering taste of her tea mixed with her warmth.

"With this, I’ve forgotten it ever happened," Nat rasped out softly, a dangerously handsome, crooked smirk spreading across his face. He patted her cheek once, his eyes gleaming. "Good morning."

"When did you become so expensive to deal with?" April asked, her voice slightly breathless as her eyes searched his gleaming face.

Nat grinned, a wicked, triumphant glint dancing in his eyes. "The moment I realized letting you do what you want could get me a free pass to act as I please as well," he claimed smoothly.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping slowly down the length of her wine-colored dress until his eyes landed on her feet—specifically, the crystal-clear acrylic heels hugging her soles. And each time, it reminded him of how the doctor had overstepped and kissed her toe.

Nat’s jaw tightened just a fraction, though his smirk remained intact. "You must really love those shoes. Why don’t I get you another pair? I assure you, you’ll love mine better."

"Save it, I cherish this one," April replied, tilting her head with a cool, unbothered curve touching her lips. "Besides, it must irk you because you have no way to call me short while I’m in these."

Nat stilled for a brief moment, staring at her serene, playful face. Then, he let out a sudden, deep bark of laughter that echoed loudly through the tense, silent dining room.

"Sure," Nat drawled, his broad hand giving her chin one last possessive flick before he finally straightened up. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, sweetheart."

Xavier cleared his throat, a subtle, discontented rumble in his chest that drew everyone’s attention back toward his side of the table. "They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach," he grumbled under his breath.

"What was that, Xavier?" April asked, raising an eyebrow over her tea.

He didn’t repeat the phrase. Instead, Xavier looked her straight in the eye, his dark gaze unblinking and intense. "It doesn’t apply to me, but it definitely applies strongly to her," he added softly.

Reaching beneath the table, he brought out a beautifully crafted, velvet-lined mahogany box he had kept hidden with him. He slid it across the table toward her. "April, I went out early and got these for you. I hope you like them."

Nat’s eyes instantly narrowed, glaring at the box as if it contained a live grenade. Beside him, Alexander’s grip on his silver fork tightened until his knuckles turned bone-white, realization settling in that every single man at this table was actively competing to ply her with gifts. He had to up his game.

Oliver, however, said absolutely nothing. He sat in maddeningly serene silence, quietly basking in what she had said just moments ago. I cherish this one. The fact that she cherished his gift—his functional, customized acrylic heels—made his pride swell and his heart dance, if such an emotional response were anatomically possible for him to admit.

April pulled the box closer and lifted the lid.

Inside rested six exquisite, pearl-dusted moonlight tarts—a delicacy so rare it made Alexander’s previous gift of golden leaf tarts look almost common. The delicate pastries seemed to shimmer beneath the dining room light, radiating a faint, heavenly aroma of sweet cream, rare vanilla, and toasted nuts.

April’s eyes glinted in an instant, her mouth watering before she could even process the sight.

"It goes well with tea, so you can take your time," Xavier explained, his raspy voice softening as he watched her reaction. "And though it is sweet, it is not filled with refined sugar, so it will not hurt your stomach no matter how many you eat."

"And when has sugar ever bothered me?" April asked, trying valiantly to keep a straight, unbothered face.

Yet there was no hiding the subtle, glistening sheen at the corner of her lips. Xavier’s gaze dropped to her mouth, his breath hitching slightly as he noticed the faint trace of drool—not from Nat’s earlier kiss, but from her pure desire for the dessert.

"Try it," Xavier urged softly.

April didn’t need to be told twice. She picked up one of the delicate tarts and took a bite. The flaky crust crumbled effortlessly, giving way to a velvety, rich filling that practically melted on her tongue. A soft, involuntary hum of absolute delight escaped her throat as her dark eyes half-closed in pure bliss.

As she swallowed the bite, Xavier stood up from his chair. He walked up to her side, his tall, imposing frame casting a warm shadow over her shoulder.

"Allow me to have what I want in return," Xavier murmured, his voice dropping an octave, rich and velvety.

April looked up, casually licking her bottom lip to catch a stray crumb, completely oblivious to what the innocent gesture was doing to his sanity. "What is it?"

Just like Nat before him, Xavier took his reward. He leaned down, his large hand gently cupping the back of her neck, and captured her lips in a slow kiss, swiping the lingering sweetness straight from her lips with a possessive, breathtaking warmth.

Nat clicked his tongue loudly, letting out a heavy, irritated huff as he leaned back into his chair.

"The cowardly saint only knows how to copy me," he grumbled under his breath, crossing his broad arms with a dark scowl.

Xavier didn’t care in the slightest.

He slowly pulled back, his dark eyes lingering on her flushed face with a quiet, triumphant satisfaction before he straightened up. If it works, it works. He didn’t need originality when the result was this sweet.

Alexander let out a sharp, quiet breath from across the table, setting his cup down against the saucer with a crisp, deliberate clink. His blue eyes swept over the scene—from Nat’s satisfied smirk to Xavier’s quiet victory, down to Oliver’s infuriatingly calm posture—his patience clearly wearing thin.

"If we are finished exchanging sweet treats and public displays," Alexander said, his voice smooth as silk but carrying a razor-thin, dangerous edge, "Can we go now?"

Nat let out a low, mocking whistle, leaning back into his chair with a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Someone’s a little jealous, huh?" Nat drawled, his amber eyes gleaming with pure, sharp mischief. "What’s the matter, oh great and mighty Greel’s heir? Didn’t think to pick up anything on your way down?"

Nat threw his head back and laughed—a rich, booming sound that rattled the crystal glasses on the table.

"You can be like Reed here," Nat mocked, clapping a broad hand onto his own knee. "If it works, it works, right? I don’t even mind you copying me—but do you actually have the balls to step up, or are you just going to sit there and pout in your tailored suit?"

Alexander’s blue eyes narrowed into lethal, icy slits, the air around him instantly dropping several degrees. He didn’t rise to the crude provocation, but the muscle in his jaw twitched violently as his hand tightened around the stem of his glass.

"I don’t need cheap parlor tricks or second-hand tactics to secure what is mine, Collins," Alexander replied, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth, quiet register that cut through Nat’s laughter like a razor.

He slowly rose from his seat, unbuttoning his tailored jacket. "Some of us prefer to offer substance over spectacle."

He turned his gaze toward April, his expression softening as he took in the way her lips were still dusted with a tiny trace of sugar, her eyes glittering with satisfaction as she savored Xavier’s rare pastries.

She was enjoying the dessert way too much—and the suffocating circus of possessive men posturing around her was finally pushing his patience past its limit.

"April," Alexander said softly, his voice cutting cleanly through the lingering tension in the room. "I think I have to leave for a while. I will be back by nightfall."