Real Heiress: Flash Marriage With Boyfriend's Uncle - Chapter 343

Chapter 343: Mere errand boy
Varya was caught off guard by Roger’s question. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Sensing her reluctance, Roger didn’t press for an answer. Instead, he remained quiet as he continued driving.

After a short while, he pulled up in front of a restaurant. Shifting the gear into park, he turned to her with a polite smile.

“I’ll park the car. You should head inside,” he said.

Varya nodded and stepped out of the vehicle as Roger drove ahead to find a parking spot.

A few minutes later, he returned to the entrance, where she was waiting. “Shall we?” he asked.

Together, they walked into the warmly lit restaurant, where the soft hum of conversation and gentle background music created an inviting atmosphere. The host led them to a table by a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a picturesque view of the city lights.

As soon as they settled in, a waiter approached with the menus.

“Here, you decide,” Roger said, handing Varya the menu.

She took it and browsed through the selections before placing her order. When the waiter turned to Roger, he simply said, “I’ll have the same.”

The waiter nodded, taking their menus before disappearing into the kitchen.

Roger took a sip of water, and just as he set the glass down, Varya broke the silence. “How long have you been in the mafia?” she asked with curiosity.

Roger didn’t hesitate. “More than twenty years.”

Varya’s brows lifted slightly. “I suppose that means you started young,” she mused.

He shook his head. “Not exactly.”

A soft chuckle escaped Varya’s lips. “Actually, I never planned to be in this line of work. But when my father was killed in a feud, I had no choice but to take over.”

Roger regarded her with admiration. “That must have taken a lot of courage,” he said sincerely.

She offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. No one has ever asked about my past the way you did.”

Roger leaned back slightly, his gaze steady. “I wasn’t trying to impress you that night,” he told her. “I only wanted to tend to your wound. That’s all.”

Before she could respond, the waiter returned with a food trolley, expertly setting the table before stepping away, leaving them to dine in peace. The ambient music floating through the restaurant added a layer of warmth to the already intimate setting.

As Varya took her first bite, her lips curled into a smile. “Mmm… This is delicious,” she remarked.

Roger nodded approvingly. “This restaurant has been around for over a hundred years. It’s one of the best in Rome.”

Varya’s eyes flickered with intrigue. “That’s fascinating,” she murmured, appreciating the newfound knowledge.

As they ate in comfortable silence, completely immersed in the moment, neither of them noticed the woman who had just entered the restaurant.

Sylvia walked in with a female friend, laughing lightly as they scanned the room for a table. But the moment her eyes landed on Roger, the laughter died on her lips.

There he was—sitting across from a woman she didn’t recognize, sharing a meal in what appeared to be an intimate date.

Her grip on her purse tightened as her jaw clenched.

Roger had been ignoring her calls and messages for days. Now, she knew why.

He wasn’t busy.

He wasn’t unavailable.

He was here, wining and dining another woman.

A sudden, uncontrollable rage built inside Sylvia as she took in the scene before her. Without a second thought, she stormed toward Roger, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.

Roger, still smiling at Varya after making a lighthearted joke, vaguely registered the approaching footsteps, but he paid them no mind—until it was too late.

In one swift motion, Sylvia grabbed the glass of water from the table and, with all her strength, flung its contents directly at Roger’s face.

The cold splash hit him hard, drenching his face and the front of his shirt.

A stunned silence fell over the table. Varya gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she instinctively pulled back.

Roger, however, remained still, his jaw tightening as he wiped his face with his hand. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to Sylvia, his piercing eyes darkening with fury.

“So, here you are,” Sylvia spat, her voice laced with venom. “Enjoying yourself with another woman while ignoring me?”

Varya’s gaze flickered between them, watching the way Roger’s expression hardened. He was barely containing his anger, his fingers clenching into a fist on the table.

“Leave,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Sylvia scoffed, her lips curling in defiance. “No. Don’t forget—you owe me, too,” she snapped.

Then, turning to Varya, she sneered, “Did he tell you? He used to be my brother’s servant. A mere errand boy.” She took a threatening step closer. “You should leave before I have to—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Sylvia?!” Roger’s voice thundered, cutting her off.

His patience snapped like a brittle thread, his temper breaking free from the tight leash he had kept on it. The sharp intensity in his voice made a few diners glance their way, their murmurs growing louder.

Varya, still seated, watched the storm brewing in Roger’s eyes. She knew he was on the verge of losing control, and frankly, she was already exhausted by the unnecessary drama.

With a sigh, she reached for the glass of water on the table, lifted it, and without a moment’s hesitation, she tipped it over Sylvia’s head.

Sylvia gasped in cold and looked at Varya with shocking, wide eyes.

“You ruined my dinner, girl,” Varya said.

For a moment, Sylvia stood frozen, stunned by the unexpected retaliation. Then, her rage reignited, burning hotter than before. With a furious glare, she swung her hand at Varya, aiming to slap her across the face.

But Varya was faster.

She caught Sylvia’s wrist midair. With a firm shove, she pushed Sylvia away, forcing her to stumble a step back.

“Your brother did mention that you were rude to everyone,” Varya continued. “But I didn’t realize you were this disrespectful.”

Sylvia’s face contorted with anger, her fists clenching at her sides. “What did you just say?” she hissed.

Before she could lunge again, the restaurant manager and several staff members rushed over, their expressions tense as they assessed the escalating situation.

“Miss, we must ask you to lower your voice,” the manager said cautiously, directing his words at Sylvia.

Varya, however, had lost interest in prolonging the encounter. She turned to Roger, reached for his hand and gripped it firmly.

“Let’s go,” she murmured and dragged Roger out of the restaurant after paying the bills.