My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 23

Daniel’s breath hitched as the waiter’s words sliced through his confidence like a blade. His grip on the fork tightened, his knuckles turning white as he forced himself to maintain a neutral expression.

Serenity, seated beside him, shifted uneasily.

The smugness that had been on her face moments ago had disappeared entirely.

Then She cast a glance at Daniel, as if waiting for him to respond, but for the third time, he was at a loss for words.

Raymond, on the other hand, remained composed, his fingers tapping lightly against his glass. His eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he watched Daniel struggle to process the information.

At that moment Daniel finally managed to force out a laugh, though it sounded hollow.

"What are you saying?" He turned to the waiter.

"I ordered the most expensive item on the menu. The most expensive one. Are you telling me this food is beyond that?" frёewebηovel.cѳm

The waiter nodded politely, completely unfazed by Daniel’s frustration.

"Yes, sir. The meal you ordered costs ten thousand dollars. However, these dishes are not available to the general public. They are exclusive to a highly select clientele. Only those personally invited by the restaurant’s board can place such an order."

Daniel’s stomach twisted. He prided himself on his wealth, his status, his ability to flaunt his privilege. But this? This was a different level. A level he hadn’t even known existed.

Serenity sucked in a breath, her hand tightening around her napkin. "So you’re saying..." she hesitated, her voice faltering, "...this man has access to something Daniel doesn’t?"

The waiter simply nodded.

A heavy silence fell over the table.

At that moment Daniel’s eyes darkened, frustration bubbling beneath his carefully maintained façade. He refused to believe what he was hearing. His pride was at stake, and more than anything, he couldn’t stand the fact that Raymond—this man he had looked down upon—was somehow on a level far beyond his reach.

He let out a dry chuckle, tilting his head at the waiter as if to challenge him.

"So, you’re telling me that he—" Daniel jabbed a finger toward Raymond, his voice laced with disbelief, "—is one of these so-called ’selected few’? That he can access something I can’t?"

The waiter, still unfazed, offered a polite nod.

"Yes, sir."

Immediately Daniel’s nostrils flared. His fingers twitched around his glass as he exhaled sharply through his nose. He was losing control of the situation, and he hated it.

Serenity, beside him, looked just as unsettled. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the tablecloth, her mind racing. This wasn’t what they had expected. They had come here to mock Valentina, to humiliate her and her husband. And yet, somehow, the power dynamic had flipped so effortlessly that they were the ones sitting in quiet humiliation.

Valentina, on the other hand, was perfectly composed, taking slow, delicate bites of her food. She didn’t need to say anything—her silence was louder than any insult she could have thrown at them.

At that moment Daniel clenched his jaw before forcing a smirk.

"Alright," he said, feigning amusement, "so how much would it take for someone like me to qualify?" His voice was laced with condescension, as if throwing enough money at the issue would make it disappear.

Hearing Daniel word’s the waiter hesitated for a moment before responding, "I wouldn’t know, sir. Only the owner of the restaurant can determine who is eligible."

Daniel scoffed.

"So you’re telling me he—" he pointed at Raymond again, "—is somehow more important than I am?"

Serenity’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She stared at Raymond as if seeing him for the first time. The man they had mocked—the one they thought was nothing more than a beggar—sat before them with an effortless confidence that made her skin crawl.

Her mind reeled. This isn’t right. This doesn’t make sense.

The Raymond she had imagined and told, was supposed to be unkempt, desperate, a man clinging to Valentina for financial survival. Yet, the man sitting before her now exuded an air of quiet power, his every movement precise and deliberate, as if he had nothing to prove—because he didn’t need to.

Daniel was no better. His grip on the wine glass tightened, his knuckles turning white as his pride took another hit. He had expected Raymond to shrink back, to be out of place in such an upscale restaurant, but instead, Raymond sat at the center of it all, completely at ease.

The waiter, still standing by, nodded politely.

" So he’s a qualified guest."

Daniel said.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Raymond is a qualified guest. That is why he was able to place this order."

Serenity’s fingers twitched against the table. She had to say something, anything, to regain control of the situation.

"But how?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, the Raymond we heard about was..."

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Then Raymond raised a brow, a ghost of amusement flickering across his face.

"Was what?" His voice was steady, unwavering.

Serenity swallowed.

"He was supposed to be—" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "—not this."

Raymond chuckled, shaking his head. "And what exactly did you expect?" His gaze flickered toward Daniel, whose jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter.

"That I’d be beneath you?" His tone was calm, but the sharp edge beneath it was unmistakable.

Daniel’s nostrils flared. He opened his mouth, then shut it, unable to form a coherent response.

Serenity looked to Valentina, hoping to find some sort of answer there, but Valentina merely smiled—a soft, knowing smile that sent an uneasy shiver down Serenity’s spine.

She had lost.They both had.

And Raymond hadn’t even lifted a finger to defeat them.

Daniel’s fingers curled into fists under the table, his jaw tightening as if he was physically restraining himself from reacting. His pride, the same arrogance that once made him believe Valentina would always remain beneath him, now felt like a weight choking him.

Serenity shifted beside him, glancing between Valentina and Raymond, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came. The way Valentina carried herself, the unwavering confidence in her voice—it was unnerving. This wasn’t the broken woman they had expected to see.

Daniel forced a smirk, though it barely concealed the bitter taste of humiliation in his mouth.

"Well," he muttered, pushing back his chair, "I suppose that’s good for you then."

He stood, adjusting his suit as though fixing his appearance would somehow restore his dignity.

"I’ll go speak with the manager," he added, using it as an excuse to retreat before his frustration boiled over.

Valentina tilted her head, watching him with an amused glint in her eyes.

"You do that," she said lightly, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. "But since you’ve already seen everything you needed to, I didn’t marry what all of you think, my husband is far better then all those billionaire heir that used their family money. and depends on it."

At that moment Daniel froze for a moment, her words slicing through his already bruised ego.