The dazzling crystals of the five chandeliers illuminated The Royals in Manhattan. This French restaurant was renowned for its floor-to-ceiling windows adorned with a row of French sycamores outside, and the classical romantic music played by a live band every night. Celebrities and wealthy families often dined here, making it one of the most elegant and luxurious restaurants in New York. Reservations were a must.
A young couple sat by the window in the corner of the restaurant. The man, dressed in a slim-fit suit and leather shoes, leaned comfortably back in his chair. His gentle eyes were mesmerized as he gazed at the young woman sitting opposite him, who was delicately wiping the corners of her mouth. He had saved up for months to make their anniversary dinner at this prestigious restaurant a reality.
With a slight smile, the man gently took the woman's slender hand resting on the table. His eyes sparkled with delight as he asked, "Anya, are you happy tonight?"
Anya immediately put down the napkin she was holding, her captivating lips curving into a smile.
"Of course, I'm happy. I've always wanted to dine here. The atmosphere is so cozy and warm, and the food is delicious. But..."
"But what?" The man's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes filled with concern. He feared that there was something about the restaurant that didn't meet Anya's expectations. He didn't want her to feel disappointed on their special night.
Anya hesitated before answering. She was naturally shy and didn't want to offend her hardworking boyfriend. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she looked at the empty plates and the bottle of wine on their table. Anya glanced around at the dreamy, vintage-like surroundings and observed the other patrons, who seemed to come from affluent backgrounds. She even spotted a well-known singer. However, this made her frown and pout.
"But dining here must be very expensive, and we ordered so much... You're just a clerk with a modest salary, and I'm a graduating student, working part-time as a waitress. It feels like we could have used the money for something more important."
"Anya, as long as it makes you happy, I'd gladly eat one meal a day for several weeks to save up. It's not a big deal for me, I promise."
The man chuckled after speaking, then bent down to kiss her hand.
Anya let out a sweet and shy smile. She knew how generous her boyfriend was. She was about to pull out her hand when he pointed to her teeth and laughed, "Anya, you should go to the bathroom. You have something on your teeth. I'll wait for you here, and then we can go for a midnight movie."
"Huh?" Anya immediately covered her mouth, her beautiful eyes widening in surprise and embarrassment.
"I'll be right back," she said, still smiling at her boyfriend and covering her mouth as she hurried towards the bathroom.
The man couldn't help but laugh at her adorable gesture. While waiting for her, he remembered the sacrifices he had made to afford this dinner and pondered their future. An idea crossed his mind, making him freeze briefly before smirking at the brilliance of it. He quickly called the waiter over and ordered Anya's favorite orange juice.
Once the juice arrived, he discreetly checked that everyone around him was preoccupied before he took a small packet of sleeping powder from his pocket. He had been carrying it for months, waiting for the right opportunity. He carefully poured it into the orange juice, ensuring it dissolved completely before Anya returned.
With a mix of helplessness and regret, he stared at the glass. He had been contemplating this plan for some time but only now found the courage to go through with it.
"Anya, please don't hate me. As a clerk in a company full of experienced Harvard graduates, promotions for someone like me are rare. I just want us to have a better future. Just one night with him, okay? Just one night, I promise! Once I become an executive personal assistant, I'll marry you right away. Don't worry. I swear I'll never despise you or feel disgusted by you. You'll always be the purest and most innocent angel to me, and my feelings will never change..."
As she returned to their table, Anya saw her boyfriend, Conrad, deep in thought, holding the glass of orange juice. She had never seen him like this and worried that his job was causing him too much stress. Curiously, she approached him, gently patted his shoulder, and asked softly, "Conrad, what are you thinking about?"
Startled by Anya's voice, Conrad looked up at her and the glass of orange juice in his hand, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. His eyes were filled with panic for a moment before he forced a smile, stood up, and led her back to her seat.
"Sorry, Anya, I was just thinking about work, but it's nothing. Every working man has moments like this when he gets lost in thought about work. But it's not something you have to worry about, okay? Anyway, I remembered how much you love orange juice, and I've heard that The Royals have amazing fresh orange juice. I thought it would be a nice treat before we go. Here, have a glass."
