The doors opened with a quiet hush, and Victor stepped onto the marble floor with the composure reserved for men who had just ruined five fortunes before breakfast and looked forward to dessert. His coat was unbuttoned, his cufflinks were gold, and his expression was one of polite, predatory calm.
Elias blinked once behind his sunglasses and murmured to Ego, "If he pulls out a ring, I will stab you with my butter knife."
Ego's grin was radiant. "Worth it."
Victor reached their table. His tone was polite. His eyes were not.
"Ego," he said smoothly, "could you illuminate me as to why you took my pregnant fiancé out without a schedule?"
Ego didn't flinch, he lifted his mimosa and said mildly, "I'm your father."
Victor didn't even glance at the glass. "And I'm a god, neither applicable here."
Ego's smile curved, amused. "You say that like it's a trump card."
"It is," Victor said flatly, eyes on Elias now. "Especially when you drag my mate through the press with brunch."
