By 7 PM, the group arrived at the golden arches—only this time, the parking lot was empty except for their sleek black convoy with another similar car. Inside, the restaurant had been transformed: candlelight on the plastic tables, velvet curtains draped across the windows, even a violinist in the corner playing soft romantic music.
Mc Donald's stood bathed in warm candlelight and soft classical music. Nestled at the edge of the riverfront, the luxurious restaurant glowed with gold accents, velvet-draped windows, and the scent of fresh truffle and rosemary in the air. Guests were ushered in by hosts in black tuxedos, and every table sparkled with polished silverware and crystal goblets.
Lucien arrived in a midnight black three-piece suit, the collar crisp, and his silver cufflinks glinting in the light. His hair was slicked back, a single strand rebellious at his temple. Asher, never one to be outdone, wore a dark maroon silk shirt with the top buttons left teasingly undone, tucked into perfectly tailored slacks and a matte black blazer. His smirk said everything.
Seraphine's entrance turned heads—she wore an emerald-green satin gown that clung to her body just right, the off-shoulder neckline adorned with delicate beads. A diamond-studded hairpin tucked one side of her dark waves back, and her lips were a perfect rose.
Elora arrived last, hand-in-hand with Magnus. She looked effortlessly royal in a champagne gold chiffon dress that shimmered every time she moved. Magnus was classic in navy with a silk tie and a gentle smile on his face as he pulled the chair out for his wife.
The group sat down, and for a moment, silence hovered over the table—tinted with a weight none of them had addressed yet.
Asher cleared his throat. "Elora… Magnus… there's something you should know."
Their smiles intensified, listening closely.
"I've got something to tell you two," he said, glancing at Elora and Magnus. His voice dropped in pitch, serious, but not overly dramatic. "The attack at Lucien's wasn't random."
Elora's brows furrowed, as panic hit her steady voice, "What do you mean… attack?" she questioned sharply, while Magnus who was making Ethan fly up and catch him suddenly stopped and raised a brow at Asher.
"They were after Seraphine," Asher continued, eyes darkening. "They tied her up. Hurt the staff. Lucien and I got ambushed trying to save her. It was… bad."
Elora froze. Her hand flew to her mouth, the sparkle in her eye disappearing like a snuffed flame. Magnus sat bolt upright, his chair scraping against the floor. "They… What? Is she okay? Are you guys okay?"
"She's fine now," Lucien said, his voice calm and low as he reached across the table to take Seraphine's hand. "But things could've gone differently. I underestimated our enemies. That won't happen again."
"You what—? When was this?" Magnus asked, blinking in disbelief.
"Last night," Seraphine said gently. "We didn't want to worry you guys."
"Last night?" Elora cried, eyes welling up with tears. "You mean I was doing face masks and watching 'Legally Blonde' while my sister was tied to a chair like some Netflix thriller?!"
"I didn't want to scare you," Seraphine said softly, guilt brushing her voice.
"I'm like your sister, Sera. Scared or not—I want to be there," Elora whispered fiercely. She reached across the table and pulled her into a sudden, teary, protective hug. Seraphine melted into her, blinking rapidly to keep her own tears from falling.
"And now you're telling me here? In McDonald's? Under chandelier lighting?" Elora muttered, half-laughing, half-crying.
"Yeah, I wanted the setting to be classy," Asher said with a smug grin. "We considered breaking the news in the drive-thru, but this felt more intimate."
Lucien's mouth twitched. "Plus, this way, if someone fainted, we already have unlimited ice cream."
Asher sniffed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Honestly, if we're handing out hugs, I'm still emotionally scarred too."
Lucien shot him a look. "You? Please. You flirted with the paramedic while bleeding from your face."
"Classic Asher thing to do," Seraphine said, shaking her head.
"She was cute and I was dying. Let me live, you too." Asher said, deadpan.
Magnus smirked. "Did she give you her number?"
Asher pouted. "She gave me a lecture on how I 'shouldn't wink while holding gauze'. Apparently it's 'inappropriate while haemorrhaging'."
Magnus shook his head in dismay before breaking into a grin and muttering, "No wonder you are single, Ash."
The table erupted into laughter, even Elora wiping her eyes between giggles.
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Asher continued with faux indignation. "Bleed out unfashionably? No thanks. I angled the drip for aesthetic."
Lucien leaned back in his chair, chuckling under his breath. "At this point, I don't know if I should fear the enemy… or you."
"I vote for me," Asher said. "I'm unpredictable. That's my brand."
"You got knocked out by a dude with a bat," Lucien reminded him, sipping his drink.
"Yeah, well," Asher replied, "at least I wasn't nearly murdered in front of my wife and then had to be saved by said wife with a baseball bat." Lucien shot him a death glare, while Seraphine let out a nervous laugh.
"Oops, too soon?" whistled Asher.
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "You're walking home. And sleeping outside"
Elora and Magnus were now full-on laughing, even little Ethan was amused by the laughter that he broke into a girn, the weight of the earlier shock slowly lifting under the chaos of their dynamic.
"Seriously though," Lior said, wiping tears of mirth, "next time something like this happens—please call us. We want to help."
"I know," Seraphine said, smiling warmly. "And next time, I will."
Asher nodded. "Yeah, next time we'll all get tied up together. Family bonding."
"Don't tempt fate," Lucien muttered, but he couldn't help the upward quirk of his lips.
"I already told Lucien," Elora teased, "you've got a woman with beauty, brains, and now biceps. You're one chair ambush away from being her damsel in distress again."
Lucien exhaled through his nose, mock unamused. "Wonderful. My legacy."
Soon, the first course arrived—an artful arrangement of burrata on a bed of heirloom tomatoes, drizzled with basil oil and served with warm crusty bread. Next came truffle risotto, its creamy texture melting on their tongues, followed by perfectly seared chicken breast with cranberry glaze and golden potato medallions.
The conversation flowed like the wine—jokes traded, stories shared.
"I swear, if I hear Lucien say 'Get me the best guards' one more time—" Asher began.
Lucien cut him off. "Would you rather I say, 'Get me Asher'?"
"You say that in your sleep anyway," Seraphine teased.
"I do not."
"You do," Asher added with a mock gasp. "It's always—'Asher, help me. I need someone tall and shirtless'."
Lucien gave him a look that could end lives. "You want me to demonstrate how shirtless I can get while flipping this table?"
Magnus held up a hand. "Gentlemen. For the sake of this chicken breast—peace."
They all laughed again, as the waiters served drinks now.
Asher raised his drink, "To trauma, fries, and surviving together."
They clinked their drinks together in a loud, plastic 'cheers,' the golden arches glowing behind them like an absurd crown.
Seraphine helped herself to a second wine serving. Lucien whispered to her, "Better not drink too much. I will be looking like a kidnapper if I have to carry you and Daniel together." She nudged an elbow at his chest which he dodged.
By dessert—molten chocolate lava cake with raspberry coulis and a hint of chili—everyone had loosened up, their hearts lighter.
Lucien looked around the table. His eyes landed on Seraphine, who was laughing at Elora's exaggerated imitation of his angry voice, her shoulders relaxed, her cheeks flushed from the wine.
For once, there was no threat looming in the background.
For once, they were just people—bruised, healing, laughing, and still here.
And Lucien realized something: maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than vengeance and violence.
Maybe it was nights like these that were worth protecting.
No matter the cost.