When the two arrived, Flynt stood by the window, wine ss in hand, gazing impassively at the distant scenery.


    As Aria and Owen entered together, Flynt’s brows furrowed slightly, then rxed as he smiled. “Wee.”


    Owen also smiled at him and said, “Mind if I crash your dinner, Mr. Hartley?”


    “I figured you’d show up, Mr. Shaw,” said Flynt.


    The private dining room was a suite, separated by frosted ss.


    To the left was the dining table, to the right the lounge area.


    Flynt led the way to the dining table.


    Aria took her seat, Owen following closely.


    Flynt slid the gilded menu toward Aria. “Ms. Saxon, would you do the honors and order for us?”


    Aria took the menu and casually checked off a few signature dishes. “That’ll do,” she said.


    The waiter bowed slightly before withdrawing.


    Flynt turned his gaze to Owen. “I heard your older brother runs the Shaw family business, and you don’t even have a stake in it?”


    The distribution of stakes in the Shaw family had never been made public.


    It was quite surprising that Flynt could even uncover such a well-kept secret.


    Owen remained unruffled. “That’s right,” he replied calmly.


    Flynt gave a faint smile and casually asked, “Don’t you want to fight for it, Mr. Shaw?”


    Owen slouched backzily and drawled, “Nah, I’m just a freeloader.”


    “Freeloader…” Flynt feigned contemtion. “In Huthailia, does that trante to ‘kept man’?”


    Owen nodded. “That pretty much sums up my situation.”


    Flynt chuckled softly, his toneced with subtle provocation. “You’re pretty easygoing, Mr. Shaw. If it were me, I think I’d be pretty resentful of my family for that…”


    Flynt gave Aria a meaningful look and said with a sly smile, “After all, your future wife will always be a step below the heir’s wife in status.”


    He smiled, but every word was calcted to drive a wedge between them.


    Aria caught the underlying tension but chose not to engage. Instead, she took out her phone and texted Tristan.


    Tristan had recently be obsessed with gadgets, especially binge-watching short web series—he had already spent a fortune on subscriptions.


    He didn’t just binge-watch-he was always venting to Aria about every episode.


    Yesterday he was ranting about the scumbag, today it was the homewrecker, and tomorrow he’d probablyin about those clueless rtives who couldn’t see the obvious.


    Aria typed back, joining in his rants.


    Meanwhile, Owen and Flynt continued their conversation.


    Out of the blue, Owen interjected, “That won’t happen in my family-I’ll be the one moving in with her.”


    Aria’s fingers froze mid-text.


    Flynt’s smile froze for a split second-he clearly hadn’t expected Owen to say that. “Would the Shaw family really agree to


    that?”


    “They have no reason to refuse,” Owen said with a proud grin. “After all, I’vended myself a girlfriend who’s gorgeous, wealthy, and highly capable.”


    Owen nced over at Aria, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. “Honestly, I could justze around at home all day


    -as long as I keep her happy, that’s all that matters.”


    Aria’s fingers froze mid-text as she wondered if he meant it.


    Flynt maintained his smile, though there was a glint in his eyes. “That’s certainly… an unconventional perspective, Mr. Shaw.”


    “Thanks for thepliment,” Owen said with a smirk. “Not many are as lucky as I am.”


    If it weren’t for this dinner, Flynt would never have imagined Owen could be so shameless.


    Owen was the biggest obstacle to Flynt taking Aria away.


    A calcting glint shed in Flynt’s eyes.


    Owen cut straight to the chase. “Mr. Hartley, how do you n to remove the chip from Dr. Todd’s abdomen?”


    Flynt’s smile faded as he turned to Aria, his toneced with subtle sarcasm. “The person in charge is right here-no need for you to step in, Mr. Shaw.”


    Owen said firmly, “I’m hers-her business is mine.”


    A mocking glint shed in Flynt’s eyes as he changed tack. “If Ms. Saxon were toe to Masmubia with me, would you tag along too, Mr. Shaw?”


    Owen didn’t back down. “Choose your words carefully, Mr. Hartley. She goes wherever she pleases-she doesn’t follow anyone, and no one has the right to dictate her movements.”


    Owen met Flynt’s gaze. “Besides, I’m hers-wherever she goes, I go.”