My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 22

The air at the table was thick with unspoken tension as the waiter stepped forward, setting down the sleek, leather-bound menu in front of Daniel.

Daniel, still shaken, quickly snatched it up—desperate to regain even a shred of his composure.

If he couldn’t talk his way out of this humiliation, perhaps money could.

He cleared his throat, feigning confidence as he casually flipped through the pages.

"Dinner’s on me," he announced again, forcing a smirk.

"Let’s call it a... celebration."

Valentina didn’t respond, simply watching him with an unreadable expression.

Serenity, still struggling to mask her disbelief, nodded quickly.

"Yes, of course! It’s the least we can do," she added, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.

Daniel, eager to shift the focus away from his earlier blunder, skimmed the menu until his eyes landed on the most expensive dish available.

A high-end, imported seafood platter—priced at an amount that would make most people hesitate.

But he didn’t hesitate.

With a flick of his wrist, he signaled the waiter.

"We’ll take the finest meal you have," he declared smoothly. "Make it quick."

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the table in uneasy silence.

Daniel, despite his efforts to appear unaffected, found his gaze continuously drifting toward Valentina.

He couldn’t help it, she was stunning.

More than that—she was captivating in a way that made his chest tighten.

How?

How had the woman he once pitied—mocked, even—become this?

The realization settled in his gut like a heavy weight.

If he had known...If he had waited...

He might have been the one sitting beside her now.

Not that nobody she had married.

His jaw clenched.

Serenity, sensing his distraction, shifted uncomfortably beside him, her own confidence wavering.

She was no fool—she saw where his attention lay.

At that moment her lips pressed into a thin line.

But before she could speak, the waiter returned, balancing a luxurious silver tray in his hands.

And as he placed their meals in front of them, the scent of expensive cuisine filled the air.

A meal meant to cover their shame.

A meal Daniel hoped would shift the power back into his hands.

But as Valentina lifted her glass with a small, knowing smile—he knew.

No matter how much he spent tonight...

He had already lost.

Daniel leaned back in his chair, twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. His lips curled into a smirk, but there was something forced about it—something bitter.

"You know, Valentina," he said, feigning casual interest.

"I can’t help but wonder... are you really happy?"

His voice carried a false concern, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they studied her.

"If this man is really your husband, then he must be something special. Yet, I’ve never heard of him before. I mean, is he even from this country?"

Serenity leaned in slightly, adding, "Exactly! He doesn’t look like one of us. And, well... let’s be honest, Valentina. He definitely doesn’t belong with someone like you."

Her words dripped with condescension, carefully veiled behind a faux-sympathetic smile.

Valentina, who had been calm then looked up.

"Yes," she answered simply.

"He’s from here."

Immediately Daniel’s smirk twitched.

"Really? Then why does he feel... off?" He chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip.

"He looks like someone who—how do I put this nicely?—shouldn’t be sitting at this table.

Serenity covered her mouth, giggling.

At that moment Valentina’s jaw tightened a little

She could feel the weight of their words, the way they picked at her marriage as if it were something fragile—something laughable.

But she wasn’t the same woman they remembered.

Then She lifted her chin, her gaze meeting Daniel’s with quiet strength.

"Tell me, Daniel," she said, her voice smooth.

"What exactly should my husband look like?"

Daniel blinked, caught off guard.

Serenity quickly filled the silence.

"Well, someone who matches you, obviously," she said with a saccharine smile.

"Someone who—how do I put this nicely?—fits into our world. A person of status, wealth... class."

Then Valentina let out a soft laugh—low and unimpressed.

"Ah," she mused.

"So you mean someone like you?"

Daniel shifted, his jaw tightening.

Valentina took a sip of her water, letting the silence linger before setting her glass down.

"You see, that’s where you’re mistaken."

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto his with quiet intensity.

"My husband doesn’t need to match your definition of ’worthy.’"

She paused, allowing her words to settle in.

"Because, unlike you, he doesn’t have to prove his value with expensive meals and empty words."

immediately Serenity’s smile faltered.

Daniel, for the second time that evening, had nothing to say.

Daniel’s smile faltered as he watched the waiters move swiftly, setting down dish after dish with practiced ease. The aroma of expertly prepared cuisine filled the air—truffle-infused lobster bisque, wagyu steak grilled to perfection, rare imported wines, and an array of gourmet dishes that Daniel knew weren’t on the restaurant’s regular menu.

His fingers tightened around his glass as he exchanged a confused glance with Serenity. "What’s all this?" he asked, forcing a chuckle. "I already ordered for everyone, I didn’t order this."

One of the waiters, a professionally dressed man with an air of quiet authority, inclined his head respectfully.

"Apologies, sir, but this order was placed prior to your arrival."

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

"Prior to our arrival?" His gaze flickered toward Raymond, who sat there calmly.

"Yes, sir." The waiter gestured toward Raymond.

"Sir Raymond specifically requested these selections from our exclusive VIP menu."

Immediately Serenity’s expression froze. "VIP menu?" Her voice wavered slightly.

The words hung in the air, heavy with realization. The VIP menu wasn’t just a list of extravagant dishes—it was an unspoken status symbol. Only the wealthiest patrons had access to it.

Daniel blinked rapidly, his mind racing. His initial assumption had been that Raymond was a nobody—a man who had taken a payout to marry Valentina. But now?

Raymond finally set down his glass, his movements slow and deliberate. His sharp gaze met Daniel’s, unreadable yet filled with an unspoken message.

"I don’t rely on others to provide for my wife," he said smoothly.

The words were simple, yet they landed like a hammer.

Daniel swallowed hard, struggling to mask his discomfort. The entire situation had flipped on him before he even had a chance to react.

Valentina, who had remained silent, finally picked up her fork. She glanced at Raymond, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Well," she said, her voice light but carrying an undeniable edge, "since my husband has already taken care of everything, I suppose we should eat."

Serenity, who had been prepared to mock Valentina just moments ago, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her confidence, which had been so apparent earlier, now seemed to waver.

Raymond gestured toward Daniel’s untouched plate.

"You’re welcome to stay, of course," he said with a slight tilt of his head.

"It seems you’ve invited yourself to our table anyway."

Daniel didn’t respond. He simply forced a strained smile, his grip tightening on his utensils.

The meal he thought would be his stage for humiliation had turned into an unexpected power play—one that he had already lost.