The CEO's Evil Wife

Chapter 3 | The Family Dinner

As the clock neared 6:00 p.m., the door to her office opened with a soft click. James stepped in, his usual composed demeanor still in place, but there was something in the way he looked at her that hinted at the tension she could feel hanging between them.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice calm, but with a slight edge.

Veronica glanced up from her papers, her expression unreadable. “I’ve finished up here. Let’s go.”

She stood up smoothly, smoothing her skirt down as she grabbed her bag. James stepped aside, gesturing toward the hallway. They walked in silence through the office, the few remaining employees finishing their work, occasionally offering polite nods as they passed by. Veronica couldn’t help but notice the slight shift in their gazes, the lingering stares that spoke volumes. It wasn’t just the return of the wife, but something unspoken that lingered in the air—an unspoken shift in the power balance at the office.

Outside, the cool evening air wrapped around them, the setting sun casting long shadows across the pavement. James’ black car was parked a short distance away, its sleek form a sharp contrast against the street's quiet bustle. He opened the door for Veronica, and she stepped inside with the same poised grace she had maintained all day. James slid into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life as they began the drive in silence, the tension between them palpable.

As they pulled up to a quiet restaurant, the paparazzi—always lurking, always watching—were already gathered outside, cameras ready and eager to capture every moment of the couple's return to the public eye.

“Smile for the cameras,” James muttered, his voice dry, his eyes flicking briefly toward the lens that focused on them as they stepped out of the car. Veronica's expression remained composed, her lips curving into a tight, controlled smile. It was the smile of a woman who had lived her life under the spotlight, always careful, always composed.

As they walked toward the restaurant, flashes erupted from all sides, the paparazzi's lenses capturing their every step. The scene was familiar to both of them—James, tall and commanding in his tailored suit, Veronica beside him, graceful as ever, the perfect picture of the power couple they were often portrayed as.

“Your mother insisted,” James said, breaking the silence as they approached the entrance. “She wants us both at dinner tonight.”

Veronica’s lips thinned for a moment, but she didn’t respond. She had known this was coming. Her mother had been persistent in her invitations, always eager to host them.

Dinner at his mother’s house had never been anything but a tense affair. The woman had never fully accepted Veronica, always preferring the idea of a more traditional, less “business-oriented” wife for James. But Veronica had played the part well, smiling and nodding through every interaction, never showing her true feelings.

They entered the restaurant, and a hostess ushered them to a private table, away from prying eyes, though the attention outside would follow them in. As they settled into their seats, James glanced over at Veronica, his face betraying a rare hint of concern.

“I know it’s not your favorite, but you can handle this,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something approaching sincerity.

Veronica looked up from her menu, meeting his gaze directly. “I handle whatever I need to,” she replied coolly. “And tonight, I handle this.”

His lips quirked slightly, but there was no humor in his eyes. They both knew the unspoken truth—that dinner was more about appearances than anything else. It was another performance they’d have to put on, playing the roles expected of them, and maintaining the fragile balance of their partnership in the public eye.

As the waiter came to take their orders, Veronica’s phone buzzed softly in her bag. She glanced down, the briefest flash of distraction crossing her face before she quickly composed herself and silenced it. The evening was just beginning, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted—not tonight.

Her parents had arrived just in time for dinner. Her mother, Evelyn Su, surveyed the room with an air of approval. Her father, Arthur Su, seated at the head of the table, exuded a quiet but firm power, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the gathering with preciseness.

James stood, offering a formal greeting as they entered, his posture as composed as ever. Veronica, already seated at the table, remained poised, her expression betraying nothing but calm professionalism. The formality of the evening was not lost on either of them, but beneath the surface, the undercurrent of expectation from her parents was detectable.

As the first course was served, the conversation flowed with the ease of long familiarity. Her parents spoke of business, of the latest societal events, and of family matters that demanded attention. James offered his usual measured responses, always careful to remain just slightly distant. But then, as the wine was poured and the mood lightened, Evelyn placed her glass delicately on the table and turned her sharp gaze to the couple.

“So,” she began, her tone as smooth as silk yet carrying an undeniable weight, “when will we be hearing the news? I trust you’ve not forgotten about that particular chapter of your marriage, Veronica.”

Her question, though polite, was loaded with the kind of expectation only a mother of old wealth could carry. Evelyn's eyes flicked between the two of them, a subtle but unmistakable challenge in her gaze.

Veronica's fingers tightened slightly around her glass, but she remained composed. “What news do you mean, mother?” she asked, her voice betraying no hint of discomfort.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Evelyn continued, her lips curling into a slight smile. “When will we see grandchildren running around? It's been four years, Veronica. It’s about time you two start considering having a family, don't you think?”

Arthur’s gaze remained fixed on his plate, his silence adding to the weight of the question. James shifted in his seat, the subtle tension between the couple now evident. The question, though framed as an innocent inquiry, felt like a calculated prod, pushing them both toward a conclusion they had been avoiding.

Veronica took a slow breath, keeping her features calm. “Mother, I’ve been focused on other things,” she replied smoothly, meeting her mother’s gaze with quiet resolve. “And James and I have been... busy.”

Evelyn’s smile never faltered, but her eyes darkened just slightly. "Busy?" she echoed. "I do hope that ‘business’ is not keeping you too distracted from what truly matters, dear. A family is not something that can wait forever.”

James needs to step in as the topic was increasing the tension. He gently placed his hand on top of Veronica’s, his thumb brushing her knuckles in a gesture that was more comforting than possessive. He could sense her hesitation, but he would not allow her to face this alone.

“Veronica and I have discussed this before, Evelyn,” James said, his tone polite yet firm. “And while I understand your concerns, we have our own timing for such decisions. The right moment will come in time.”

Evelyn’s sharp gaze flickered between her daughter and son-in-law. She didn’t miss the subtle shift in James's tone, the protective edge that tempered his words. It was clear he was not going to allow her to press further.

“I understand,” Evelyn said, her voice cool but measured. “It’s just… you’ve been married for quite some time, and there are certain expectations, James.”

James met her gaze, his expression neutral but respectful. “Of course, and we both understand those expectations,” he replied, keeping his voice even. "But, as you know, Veronica and I have always made our decisions together, and we will continue to do so.”

Arthur, sensing the tension, cleared his throat softly. “Perhaps we should focus on enjoying the evening,” he interjected, his tone calm but firm, a reminder of the need to keep things cordial. “We’re all here to spend time together, after all.”

Veronica felt a moment of gratitude toward her father for steering the conversation back to safer waters. She knew better than to let her mother push her into discussing matters that weren’t anyone’s business but her own. She squeezed James’s hand, silently acknowledging his support. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything.

“Indeed,” Veronica said, her voice smooth as she picked up her wine glass. "We can talk about the future when the time is right."

Evelyn’s eyes lingered on the pair for a moment longer, but she said nothing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the subtle challenge she had thrown out earlier seemed to dissipate into the air. She wasn’t accustomed to being so easily deflected, but there was a certain respect she held for the way James had handled the situation—calm, collected, and never allowing the topic to escalate beyond what was necessary.

As the evening continued, the conversation returned to more neutral— light discussions about business and travel, the usual small talk that filled formal dinners. James and Veronica remained composed, as always, their polite smiles in place as they engaged with her parents.