MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The dinner table was set. There was a variety of dishes ranging from fish, meat and all sorts of pastries.

When Elena had said she would ask one of the helpers to make Blake dinner, he didn't expect this much.

But ever since gaining his consciousness and meeting Elena for the first time, all she had done was be nice and treat him with adoration.

The two sat across each other. The entire time Elena had her fingers clasped together as she stared at Blake dive into meal after meal.

As they sat across from each other at the elaborately set dinner table, Blake couldn't help but marvel at the spread before him. The aroma of the food wafted through the air, enticing his senses and making his stomach rumble in anticipation. He glanced up to see Elena watching him intently, her fingers delicately interlocked as she observed his every move with a hint of amusement in her gaze.

Taking a bite of the savory fish, Blake couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh. The flavors exploded on his palate, and he found himself indulging in the delicious meal before him. Elena's attention never wavered, her eyes following his every movement with a curious intensity.

As Blake continued to eat, he couldn't shake the feeling of being under Elena's scrutiny. Despite her pleasant demeanor, there was an underlying tension in the air that made him feel on edge. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way she watched him that set his instincts on high alert.

Nevertheless, he pushed aside his unease and focused on enjoying the meal before him. Each dish was expertly prepared, showcasing the culinary skills of the helpers in the household. Blake found himself lost in the flavors, momentarily forgetting about the mysteries that surrounded him and Elena.

But even as he savored each bite, he couldn't shake the feeling that this dinner was more than just a simple meal. There was an unspoken tension lingering between them, a silent exchange of words beneath the surface. As he stole a glance at Elena, he wondered what lay behind her composed facade and what secrets she was hiding beneath her charming demeanor.

As they enjoyed their meal, Blake couldn't help but notice that Elena hardly touched her food. "You know," he began, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "I've noticed that you never really eat much when I'm having my meals. Is everything alright?"

Elena smiled softly, her gaze meeting his. "Oh, I'm fine, Blake," she replied, her tone reassuring. "I've already eaten before you arrived. I just enjoy watching you savor the flavors of the island. It brings me joy to see you appreciate the culinary delights we have to offer here."

Blake nodded, understanding her explanation. "Well, I have to say, the food here is truly amazing," he remarked, gesturing to the spread of dishes on the table. "I've never tasted anything quite like it. The flavors are so rich and vibrant, it's like a symphony for the taste buds."

Elena's smile widened at his compliment. "I'm glad you're enjoying it," she said warmly. "The island has a bounty of fresh ingredients, and our chefs take great pride in creating dishes that showcase the natural beauty of our surroundings."

As they continued to chat, Blake couldn't help but bring up the topic of technology. "You know, Elena, I was wondering why I don't seem to have a cellphone or any other gadgets," he said, curiosity piqued. "I mean, in this day and age, it seems strange not to have any technology at all."

Elena chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes, technology," she mused. "You've always been a bit of a traditionalist, Blake. You once told me that you believed technology could sometimes disconnect us from the true essence of life, that it dulled our senses and distracted us from the beauty of the world around us."

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her response. "Did I really say that?" he asked, surprised by his own philosophical musings.

Elena nodded, her expression serene. "Yes, you did," she confirmed. "And while it may seem a bit old-fashioned to some, I've always admired your perspective on life. You have a depth of soul that is truly rare in this modern world."

This explanation was fair enough for him even though he didn't believe it. Certainly, looking at himself, he didn't think too much about himself.

Blake found himself lost in thought, pondering Elena's response to his question about technology. Her explanation seemed to paint a picture of him that was vastly different from how he perceived himself. He had always considered himself to be a man of practicality, someone who valued efficiency and modern conveniences.

Yet, Elena's words portrayed him as a philosopher, a deep thinker who pondered the intricacies of life.

It was a jarring revelation, one that left him feeling somewhat unsettled. Could he truly be the kind of person who waxed poetic about the pitfalls of technology and the virtues of simplicity? It seemed too profound, too introspective to align with his own self-image.

And yet, there was a nagging sense of recognition in Elena's words, as if they resonated with some hidden aspect of his being that he had yet to fully uncover.

Lost in his thoughts, Blake found himself grappling with a sense of dissonance, torn between the man he believed himself to be and the one Elena described. It was a dichotomy that he couldn't quite reconcile, a puzzle with pieces that refused to fit together neatly.

And as he mulled over the complexities of his own identity, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, that beneath the surface lay depths waiting to be explored.

But for now, he pushed aside his doubts and uncertainties, focusing instead on the present moment and the easy camaraderie he shared with Elena. Perhaps, in time, he would uncover the truth of who he truly was, but for now, he was content to bask in the warmth of her company and the tantalizing mystery of his own existence.

If the lady that claimed to know him even more than himself claimed that to be, he would allow it be for now, at least until he regained his memory.

As Blake leaned back in his chair, enjoying the peaceful ambiance of the evening, he casually reached out towards the wine glass sitting in front of Elena.

"Could you pass me the glass of wine, please?" he asked, his tone light and casual.

Elena's reaction was immediate, her expression shifting from composed to startled in an instant. She froze, her hand hovering over the bottle of wine as if uncertain whether to comply with Blake's request.

"This one?" she stammered, her voice betraying a hint of unease as she gestured towards a completely different bottle on the table.

Blake shook his head, his gaze unwavering as he pointed directly at the glass of wine in front of Elena. "No, the thick looking one right in front of you," he clarified, a puzzled expression flickering across his features as he followed Elena's gaze to the wrong bottle.

Elena's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at Blake, her mind racing with frantic thoughts. Could he have known? How could he have possibly guessed the truth about her? Was his memories back? It couldn't be, right?

She had been so careful, so meticulous in concealing her true nature from him.

Panic surged within her as she realized the precariousness of her situation. She couldn't give him what he asked for, couldn't reveal the dark secret that lay hidden beneath the surface of their seemingly tranquil existence.

With a forced smile, Elena shifted her gaze back to Blake, her mind racing as she searched for a plausible excuse. "Oh, silly me," she said, her voice tinged with false cheerfulness. "I didn't know which you were referring to. Here you go."

With a trembling hand, she passed the glass of wine to Blake, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him flash a smile at her and about to take a sip.