"Handsome, are you sure you're not sitting in the wrong seat?" Stephanie asked with a smile.
She didn't seem angry. After all, the man across from her—dressed like some kind of detective—was quite good-looking, and she happened to be a hopeless sucker for handsome faces.
"No, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," the detective-like man said, taking a puff from the small black pipe at the corner of his mouth and blowing out a lazy smoke ring.
"Oh? Then are you here to get to know me?" Stephanie asked sweetly.
This wasn't the first time she'd dealt with something . She was beautiful, and with her family background, she had more admirers than she could count.
But that also meant her standards were extremely high. She'd never been interested in any of them.
The handsome ones? She thought they lacked ability. The capable ones? Either too old or too ugly.
The rare ones who were both handsome and competent? Nearly nonexistent.
Of course, if a guy looked good, she didn't mind saying hello. Everyone appreciated beauty, after all.
"I'd say we already know each other now, wouldn't you agree… Miss Stephanie?" the man said with a faint smile.
The moment he said her name, Stephanie realized this wasn't just some random guy trying to flirt with her.
If he were just a stranger taken by her looks, there's no way he'd know her name.
But if he were someone she knew, she would've remembered him. She'd been trained in intelligence work since she was a child—maybe not with perfect recall, but she definitely never forgot a face, especially not a handsome one.
She was sure they'd never met before.
Yet he knew her name, came to this exact restaurant where she was a regular, and showed up at the right time.
That many coincidences didn't add up.
She calmly put down her knife and fork, one hand quietly moving beneath the table as she kept her polite smile.
"I don't even know your name yet, handsome. That seems a little unfair, doesn't it?"
"Raymond. Raymond Fong," the man replied with a smile.
"Raymond, huh? Nice name." Stephanie smiled back. "So, Mr. Raymond, what brings you here to see me today? What advice do you have?"
"No advice," Raymond said, waving a hand. "I'm just here for an interview."
"Interview?" Stephanie blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.
Did I read this wrong? she wondered.
As the only heir of the Malick family—daughter of Gideon Malick—Stephanie technically had ownership over a number of businesses.
But hiring people? That was never her job. She had entire HR departments for that.
So how did this guy even get her schedule? And why come all the way here?
She shook her head. "I don't handle that. If you're looking for a job, go through the proper channels. Tricks won't get you hired."
"No, no, you've misunderstood, Miss Stephanie," Raymond said with a grin. "I'm not here to apply for a job. I'm actually hiring."
"Hiring? You mean… you're interviewing me?" Stephanie asked, wondering if she'd misheard.
"That's right," Raymond replied without hesitation.
Stephanie burst out laughing, so hard she nearly cried.
It had been a long, long time since anyone had amused her this much.
Someone wanted to interview her?
Could anything be more ridiculous—and more entertaining?
"Miss Stephanie, you have a beautiful smile. I think you'd make a great secretary," Raymond said seriously, rubbing his hands together.
"Me? Your secretary?" Stephanie's eyes narrowed slightly.
The hand she had placed under the table now came up, covered with a napkin to avoid drawing attention from nearby guests.
But Raymond, sitting directly across from her, clearly saw what was in her hand—a pistol.
She clicked the safety off and asked, "What did you just say? I didn't quite catch that. Mind repeating it?"
"Tsk tsk… No wonder you're the Malick family's princess. That's some serious fire," Raymond said casually.
"Who are you really? I don't have time to play games. Tell me what you're really here for," Stephanie said coldly, all trace of humor gone.
"Oh, I know you will. That's why I'm asking: can you hurry up already?"
"Shoot me!" Raymond suddenly slapped the table.
Stephanie's face flushed with anger. This was one of D.C.'s most high-end restaurants. If she fired a gun here, she'd immediately become headline news.
Even if her family could suppress the fallout, she'd be forced to lay low for a long time.
Not that killing someone was hard for her—she just preferred not to draw that much attention.
"You won't? Fine, I will!"
Raymond suddenly snatched the gun from her hand and pointed it at her instead.
Stephanie gasped. "Don't do anything crazy!"
In her panic, she also felt confused—How did he grab my gun so easily? That kind of mistake wasn't like her at all.
"If you kill me, you won't escape. Everyone here saw—" she started, trying to calm him.
"Oh? Did they?" Raymond chuckled. "Then look around—tell me who's watching."
Stephanie froze. He had a point.
Given the noise earlier—slamming the table, grabbing a gun, aiming it right at her—someone should have looked over.
But… no one had. Not a single person had even glanced their way.
It was like the two of them didn't exist.
She wasn't new to this game. Her father was one of Hydra's top leaders. She knew what this meant.
The man sitting across from her… was likely a superhuman.
No wonder he's so fearless, she thought grimly.
Hydra had their own superhumans. Even her father, who'd taken the super-soldier serum, technically counted as one—though a weak one, relatively speaking.
So she knew just how arrogant some of them could be.
They gained powers and immediately thought they were invincible, above all rules.
Sure, most of them were nothing in the face of state power. But they didn't seem to think so.
Still, now was not the time to provoke this guy—not with a gun pointed at her.
"Just calm down…" Stephanie said softly, trying to soothe him.
"I am calm," Raymond said with a smile, lifting the gun slightly. "Go ahead—keep talking."