The moment he saw the reservation details, his expression shifted. It was for one of the VIP booths. Then it hit him—his manager had mentioned that they were expecting an important guest today. As he read over the information, his posture stiffened with realization: the woman standing before him was <i>the</i> guest they had been preparing for.
Quickly regaining hisposure, he bowed respectfully."Wee, honored guest. Your seat is ready. Please allow me to guide you."
Internally, his heart raced. He now felt certain this woman wasn’t just anyone. With her stunning beauty and air of quiet confidence, he couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up within him. He hadn’t expected simply greeting a guest would turn into such a moment. And knowing how generous VIPs could be with tips, he was barely able to contain the thrill that surged through him.
Hera and the others followed the staff deeper into the restaurant. The interior exuded a fresh, elegant ambiance, infused with ssic Parisian charm. The space featured a tasteful blend of white and warm wooden tones, with carefully ced floral arrangements that added a touch of color without overwhelming the natural aroma of the cuisine being served.
Athena and Liz looked around with wide-eyed admiration, taking in the intricate details and upscale atmosphere. It was clear this was no ordinary dining spot—it radiated luxury in every corner.
They were soon led to a private booth. Though it was referred to as a "booth," it was actually a spacious circr table that could seat up to eight people. It was enclosed with sleek sliding ss doors, offering a degree of privacy while still being visible from the main dining area. There were only a few VIP booths in the restaurant, and Hera’s was one of thergest—second only to the twelve-seater booth next to theirs.
As soon as Hera and her group stepped into the restaurant, heads turned and eyes followed them—especially Hera, who walked gracefully at the front, just behind the staff. She moved like she owned the runway, every step radiating confidence and elegance. Her wavy hair swayed gently with the rhythm of her hips, making her presence utterly captivating. Among those watching was a man from another VIP booth, who couldn’t help but steal nces at her.
A low whistle escaped from nearby.
"Man, look at that woman’s slim waist! Don’t you think she’s even better than the models we usually have here? And those breasts—do you think they’re real?" One of the men leered at Hera with hungry, lustful eyes, as if mentally undressing her right then and there. Though Hera couldn’t hear their words as the man who spoke was inside the VIP Booth, but the way they stared made their intentions clear. She lifted her gaze and locked eyes with one of the men—a strikingly handsome figure.
He had a meticulously trimmed beard that gave him a rugged, mature look. His tall, straight nose sharpened his chiseled features, while dark blue eyes framed by thick, sword-like brows made him utterly irresistible. Hera couldn’t help but imagine him as the Italian Don Massimo from <i>365 Days</i>—a man with dangerous charm and undeniable maism.
But after briefly locking eyes with that predatory gaze, Hera looked away, her expression indifferent, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all. She continued walking with poise, unbothered, until they were ushered into the VIP booth—unfortunately, the one right next to that man’s.
A sense of difort settled in her chest, and without missing a beat, Hera turned to the staff and politely asked in French, "Sir, we’re feeling a little ufortable. Would you mind drawing the curtains for us? We’d prefer a bit of privacy."
Fortunately, Hera had noticed upon entering that the booth had curtains tied to the side—left there intentionally for guests to choose between enjoying the open ambiance or dining in privacy. Athena had been curious to sneak a few more nces at the handsome men in the adjacent booth, but seeing Hera’s unease, she said nothing and quietly turned her attention back to chatting with Liz.