-Piccadilly- 
Altair and Cassy arrived at Piccadilly a little before 7:00 PM. The place was like something out of a storybook—a hidden gem of opulence and elegance, only frequented by the crème de la crème of society. Cassy's eyes widened in wonder as she took in the enchanted atmosphere. 
  
"Wow, hubby, this place looks incredibly expensive," Cassy noted, her voice tinged with both awe and a hint of concern. 
  
"It is," Altair confirmed. "It caters specifically to a discerning clientele." 
  
"Ugh, I'm going to burn through my savings just breathing this air," Cassy half-joked, a bit uneasy. 
  
"Don't worry about that. Tonight, we're focused on winning, not spending," Altair reassured her. 
  
As Cassy smiled and hooked her arm through Altair's, their phones buzzed in unison. 
  
"Ready for assistance, Cassy. Perform a scan," Priscilla's message popped up in their group chat. 
  
Cassy discreetly pressed the 'Scan' button on her phone, and a moment later, Priscilla replied: "You two are clear. No suspicious devices in the area." 
  
"Situation report?" Theresa chimed in via the chat. 
  
"We're at Piccadilly," Altair typed back. "Carlos could be trying to pull something. I've arranged backup reservations just in case." 
  
With that, they approached the receptionist, a young woman with an air of subtle sophistication. 
  
"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?" she inquired. 
  
"Could you please check if there's a reservation under Carlos Antalan?" Altair asked. 
  
The receptionist skimmed her list and nodded, "Yes, a table for four but with specific instructions to wait for Mr. Antalan's arrival." 
  
"In that case, could you also check for reservations under Altair Mirales, Chloe Greyfield, or AG&G?" Altair countered, not willing to leave anything to chance. 
  
The receptionist browsed her list again and her eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! Altair Mirales, table for four. Is this you, sir?" 
  
"Yes, it is," Altair confirmed. 
  
The receptionist stood up from behind her desk and bowed respectfully. "Good evening, Mr. Mirales and Ms. Mendoza. Welcome to Piccadilly. Before we proceed, may I please see some identification from Mr. Mirales?" 
  
Altair smoothly handed over his ID card, which the receptionist verified with a swift but thorough glance. She looked up and beamed. 
  
"Everything seems to be in order.” 
 
"As it's your first visit to our restaurant, you'll need to beco—" The receptionist started, but Altair smoothly cut her off by handing over a sleek, black metallic card. Devoid of any logo or design, it bore only his name and a chip. 
  
"My feet are killing me; let's get seated," Altair interjected with a tone of polite impatience. 
  
"Certainly, sir. Right this way," the receptionist promptly replied, leading them to their table. 
  
The interior of the restaurant was a breathtaking blend of minimalist chic and timeless elegance. In the center of the room stood a grand piano, and beyond the glass doors lay a whimsical garden that could double as a playground for fairies, complete with a swing. 
  
As Cassy skimmed through the menu, her eyes widened. "Um, hubby, these prices are through the roof. I can't possibly afford this." 
  
"Don't stress about it, love. Dinner's on me," Altair reassured her. 
  
"But that's your hard-earned money," Cassy protested. 
  
Altair looked her in the eye. "You helped me out once in a way that money can't measure. Trust me, this doesn't even begin to repay you. Just let me do this for you, okay?" 
  
Feeling the sincerity in his words, Cassy's grip tightened around Altair's hand, as if releasing a reservoir of tension, guilt, and worry. 
  
"Alright, but promise to let me know if there's anything I can do for you in return," Cassy finally conceded. 
  
A thought occurred to Altair. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "You know, we've never taken a photo together. Would you mind if we capture this moment?" 
  
Cassy's eyes sparkled like stars, and her face broke into a playful grin. "I thought you'd never ask," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. 
 
 
Cassy gracefully slid into the seat next to Altair, holding her phone aloft. "Smile," she commanded softly, capturing a selfie of them with a whimsical garden as the backdrop. 
  
"See that swing over there, surrounded by the fairy lights?" Cassy's eyes sparkled as she pointed towards the garden's centerpiece, "I want us to take a photo there." 
  
Not missing a beat, Altair signaled a waiter, who promptly approached their table. "How may I assist you, sir and madam?" The waiter inquired. 
  
"Would you be so kind as to take our photograph by that enchanting swing?" Altair asked, gesturing towards the garden. 
  
The waiter puffed up his chest. "Certainly! Here at Piccadilly, our wait staff are known for their superior photography skills," he boasted. 
  
Altair and Cassy got up, their eyes meeting for a brief, electric moment before they followed the waiter into the enchanting garden. The air seemed to shimmer with tension and promise as they made their way to the swing. 
  
Cassy eased herself onto the swing, its ropes adorned with twinkling fairy lights. She looked up at Altair, her eyes beckoning. "Hold me?" 
  
Nodding, Altair moved closer. He extended his arm, and Cassy caught his hand, guiding it so that he enveloped her in a gentle hug from behind. For a moment, Altair felt like time had stopped; the air around them filled with the scent of flowers and a sense of intimate closeness. The phone flashed twice, capturing the transcendent moment. 
  
"Let's see how it turned out," the waiter said as he approached them, displaying the photograph on his phone screen. It was nothing short of magical. Cassy's eyes sparkled as she gazed at the image. 
  
"Could we get another one, right under that flower-laden arch?" Cassy pointed to another alluring spot in the garden. 
  
"Absolutely," the waiter replied, already excited about the prospect. "I've taken countless pictures under that arch; I could suggest the perfect pose if you'd like." 
  
Both Cassy and Altair looked at each other; there was a tacit understanding that this was no ordinary photograph—it was a snapshot of a moment neither wanted to forget. 
 
The waiter gestured towards the spot beneath the flower-laden arch. "If you could stand right there, hold each other's hands, and gaze into each other's eyes, it'll be perfect," he said, brimming with enthusiasm. 
  
A warm blush colored Cassy and Altair's cheeks as they stepped into position. Cassy delicately slipped her hand into Altair's, her fingers finding a comfortable, interlocking grip. The air between them was charged with an unspoken emotion, and as they looked at each other, it was as though the world had melted away. The camera flashed, seizing this poignant moment in pixels and light. 
  
"Wow, this might be the best shot I've ever taken," the waiter gushed, genuinely impressed with himself. He showed them the photograph and it was astonishing. Cassy's eyes were alight with a joyous smile that reached her eyes, a captivating expression that could light up a room. Altair's smile, subtle but deeply felt, seemed to reflect layers of emotions—affection, contentment, and a hint of vulnerability that he rarely showed. It was a picture that spoke a thousand words, encapsulating the complex tapestry of feelings that wove them together. 
  
"Shall we go back to our seats?" Altair suggested, finally breaking the intimate silence. 
  
"Absolutely!" Cassy beamed, still buzzing from the chemistry of the moment. 
  
As they made their way back to their table, they happened upon Carlos who was accompanied by a woman in her mid-20s. 
  
"Ahh, you decided to grace us with your presence after all," Altair remarked, a playful mocking tone in his voice. 
  
"Apologies for the delay, heavy traffic," Carlos replied, unfazed. 
  
"Is that so? Well, we're just about to order," Altair noted. 
  
Carlos looked around, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "How did you even get in here?" 
  
"With a reservation, of course," Altair answered, his voice flat but tinged with a hint of smugness. 
  
Carlos chuckled. "Must have burnt a hole in your savings, eh?" 
  
Altair retorted, "You mean the spare change?" 
  
Both men erupted into laughter, the tension dissipating as they headed towards the table Carlos had reserved. 
  
"Aren't you going to introduce us to your companion?" Altair inquired, nodding toward the young woman beside Carlos. 
  
"This is Sarah; she's my assistant," Carlos said, a casual tone to his voice. 
  
Altair extended a hand, which Sarah accepted with grace. "Hi Sarah, I'm Altair." 
  
Sarah's smile was warm but reserved. "It's nice to finally meet you, Altair." 
  
"And I'm Cassy, Altair's future wife," Cassy announced, extending her hand to Sarah as well. Her voice tinged with a certain pride and ownership that caught Altair completely off guard. He blinked, a subtle smile touching his lips, clearly pleasantly surprised by Cassy's forthrightness. 
  
Carlos, sizing up Altair's appearance, couldn't help but comment, "Ah Altair, always the non-conformist, even at Piccadilly. Don't you know how to dress up?" 
  
Altair took a moment before responding. "We were in the middle of our date when your invitation came in, Carlos. Didn't really have time to dress to the nines. Though to be fair, even if I did have the time, I probably wouldn't." 
  
Carlos leaned in, an amused smirk forming on his lips. "Ah, the old 'I don't need to impress people' stance, is it?" 
  
Altair shook his head. "No, not this time. It's actually just really hard to compete with you, Carlos." 
  
This remark prompted a hearty laugh from Carlos, so loud that several people in the restaurant turned their heads. 
  
"So, you finally admit defeat? Why don't you just hand Cassy over to me and head home? This place's membership fees alone probably wiped out your savings," Carlos teased, almost gloating. 
  
Altair waited for Carlos' laughter to subside before retorting, "Let me finish, Carlos. It's difficult to compete with you because you make it so easy for me to come out on top; I'd look like a bully if I even tried." 
  
The grin on Altair's face was a masterful blend of humility and just a hint of smugness, turning the tables in a way only he could. 
 
Carlos seemed momentarily disarmed by Altair's directness, his expression flickering between confusion and the beginnings of annoyance. 
  
"What are you getting at?" Carlos finally spoke, clearly vexed. 
  
"Simply that me being 'underdressed' at least gives you a fighting chance; I don't want to take that away from you," Altair explained, his tone unapologetically straightforward. 
  
Carlos looked genuinely puzzled now. "How would you look like a bully in this scenario?" 
  
Altair leaned in, "Because, for instance, while you're busy judging my attire, you yourself are a bit of a fashion faux pas for a place like this." 
  
Cassy's eyes widened. She hadn't expected Altair to go for the jugular like that. She bit her lip, tension filling the air around them. 
  
Carlos scoffed incredulously, "What are you talking about?" 
  
"That suit you're wearing—it's designer, but off-the-rack, isn't it?" Altair queried, an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 
  
Carlos bristled. "So what if it is?" 
  
Altair gestured subtly around the room. "Take a good look, Carlos. In a place like this, off-the-rack won't cut it. You can parade that in mid-range joints, but here? It's almost... out of place." 
  
Carlos was visibly seething now but managed to squeeze out, "And what about you?" 
  
Altair shrugged, "At least I'm not overcompensating with a mass-produced suit." He then pulled out a business card from his wallet and slid it across the table to Carlos. 
  
"This is my tailor's card. Get yourself a bespoke suit if you're going to frequent places like this. Trust me; you don't want to be the guy who sticks out for all the wrong reasons," Altair suggested, his tone balancing between advice and a subtle dig. 
  
Carlos picked up the card, still managing a laugh despite the obvious sting. "You expect me to believe that this tailor won't break my bank?" 
  
Altair leaned back, "Well, if you're worried about breaking the bank, perhaps you should reevaluate why you're dining in places like this to begin with." 
 
"Ah, a hundred grand for a suit? To me, that's an investment in looking better than you," Altair quipped, his tone teetering on the edge of mockery. 
  
Carlos's eyes widened, clearly rattled by Altair's audacity. 
  
"Oh, and just a heads-up, my tailor doesn't just take anyone. You'll need a referral," Altair casually added, savoring the moment. 
  
Carlos stared at him, looking like he had swallowed something bitter. The tension hung thick in the air until the waiter arrived, mercifully breaking the silence. "Shall we place our orders?" 
  
The brief interlude provided a much-needed reset, but it was clear that the underlying tension hadn't dissipated. 
  
As the waiter left, Sarah chimed in, eyes locking onto Altair, "You must be someone quite interesting, Altair, for you to keep such a low profile. Why haven't I heard of you before?" 
  
Altair chuckled internally, thinking, "Ah, so Player 2 has entered the game." 
  
He shrugged, answering Sarah's question with one of his own, "Why should you have? Who are you that I should be on your radar?" 
  
Sarah laughed, but her eyes were strategic, scanning for an opening. "Maybe we should fix that—care to share secrets over drinks sometime? Your mysterious layers could be the talk of a very intriguing evening." 
  
Cassy felt a surge of irritation at Sarah's bold proposition, her voice dripping with annoyance as she spoke up, "Your evening wear might be refined, but your approach to flirting could use a masterclass. It's so overt, it lacks any sort of subtlety." 
  
Sarah shot back with a grin, "Oh my, someone's feathers seem a bit ruffled." 
  
Cassy coolly retorted, "Perhaps you find this amusing, but you're out of your depth here." 
  
Sarah chuckled condescendingly. "Ah, youth. You wouldn't understand the intricacies of relationships." 
  
"Being young doesn't make one naive," Cassy countered. "But apparently, age hasn't bestowed wisdom upon you, only arrogance." 
 
Altair could feel the tension thickening between Cassy and Sarah and decided to intervene before it escalated any further. 
  
"Ladies, let's dial it down. Sarah, no offense, but I'm not particularly interested in making your acquaintance," Altair stated, putting an end to the brewing dispute. 
  
Cassy looked at Altair and said, "Excuse me, love, I need to freshen up. Can you order something sweet for me? The coffee earlier was a bit too bitter." 
  
"Of course," Altair replied as Cassy gracefully exited to the restroom. 
  
Once she was out of sight, Altair swiftly pulled out his phone and texted her, "You okay? Take a deep breath. Do you want to get out of here?" 
  
"Sorry, I lost my cool. I'll be right back," Cassy texted in response. 
  
Altair pocketed his phone and turned his attention back to Carlos and Sarah. 
  
"So what's the real reason you invited us here? It can't just be for dinner; and with only your assistant, no less?" Altair questioned. 
  
Carlos feigned innocence. "Why can't it be a simple dinner among friends?" 
  
Altair chuckled, not buying into Carlos' act. "Alright, skip the pleasantries. What do you want?" 
  
Carlos leaned in, dropping his voice. "How much would it take for you to walk away from Cassy?" 
  
Altair burst into laughter, so loud that a few nearby patrons glanced their way. "Oh man, Carlos, I never thought you'd sink this low." 
  
Carlos cleared his throat, "I'm a businessman, Altair. And so are you. Everything has a price." 
 
Altair's expression shifted, turning stone-cold. "Listen, Carlos. That's not a line you get to cross. First of all, you can't even begin to put a price on what I have, or who I am. And second, tread lightly. If you ever bring this up again, I'll forget I'm a civilized man and I'll rearrange that smug face of yours. Got it?" 
  
Carlos swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he absorbed the threat. "I apologize; it was a poor joke," he stammered. 
  
Just then, the waiter reappeared, expertly maneuvering through the tension in the air as if it were just another part of the room's decor. At the same moment, Cassy returned, her makeup refreshed and her poise regained. 
 
Hidden Bar – BGC 
 
Elise sat at a secluded corner of the dimly lit bar, draped in an elegantly understated black dress that flowed like liquid shadow around her. The dress was a spectacle in its simplicity, clinging just right to accentuate her curves while giving her an air of mystique and sophistication. A dash of lipstick and a subtle smoky eye completed the look that screamed 'don't mess with me.' 
  
As she sipped her cocktail, a woman with a mane of auburn hair plopped down on the stool next to her. 
  
"Didn't think you'd have the balls to show up here," Elise remarked, not bothering to disguise the ice in her voice. 
  
The woman, removing her shades, flashed an infuriating smile. "Ah, Elly, always so quick with that sharp tongue. You haven't changed a bit." 
  
Elise leaned back, her eyes narrowing. "You make it remarkably easy to despise you, Stella." 
  
Stella laughed, a tinkling sound that seemed dissonant in the dim atmosphere, and ordered a shot from the bartender. 
  
"I hope you're not involved in any way with Altair's recent disappearance," Stella warned, her voice suddenly devoid of its earlier levity. 
  
"The balls you have, calling Altair your fiancé after you shattered him?" Elise shot back, her tone dripping with disdain. 
  
Stella downed her shot, the glass making a dull thud as she placed it back on the bar counter. "That's irrelevant. He'll be back in my life by the end of the month. Why don't you make things easier for both of us and just hand him over?" 
  
"Sure, when hell freezes over," Elise retorted. 
  
Stella chuckled and stood up, smoothing the lines of her dress. "Still feisty. I like it. Don't worry; I'll find him on my own, even if it takes toppling a few obstacles." Her voice, laced with menace, made it clear she considered Elise one such obstacle. 
  
As Stella sauntered away, Elise felt a shiver crawl up her spine. Shaking off the unease, she pulled out her phone and dialed Theresa. 
 
Altair and Cassy - Piccadilly 
  
Carlos tried to regain his composure as he wiped his mouth with a fine linen napkin. "So, what's the plan after you graduate, Cassy?" 
  
"I've already got an invitation from a real estate company, so probably work there and then settle down as soon as possible," Cassy said, cutting straight to the point. 
  
Sarah leaned in, her voice dripping with insinuation. "That's awfully young, honey. Don't you want to enjoy life a little? Maybe sample a different dish?" 
  
Cassy shot her a sidelong glance. "I've already found my favorite dish, thanks. Don't think I'll be changing my order anytime soon." 
  
Carlos shook his head, apparently not satisfied. "You know, Altair, Cassy, your relationship doesn't seem real to me. It feels scripted, almost surgical." 
  
Altair grinned, not missing a beat. "Is that an expert opinion, or are you just projecting your own issues?" 
  
Cassy couldn't help but interject, "Oh, snap!" 
  
Carlos's face flushed, clearly irritated by the jab. "Fine, Altair, you win this round. But I hope you've brought enough cash. We're splitting the bill." He signaled for the waiter to bring the check. 
  
Altair looked at Carlos, then to Cassy, and chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got it covered. But you should know, love isn't something you can put a price tag on." 
  
As Carlos seethed in silent frustration and Sarah looked on, visibly unsettled, Altair took Cassy's hand. They both knew they had not just survived a dinner; they had passed another test in the evolving drama that was becoming their life. But as they left the lavish confines of Piccadilly, they couldn't help but feel that the stakes were getting higher. 
  
The evening might have been a 'win,' but they were acutely aware that the game was far from over.