FRANK'S POVI hated dressing up.Always had. Although being the editor in chief for one of the biggest food magazines in the country pretty much required dressing up from time to time, it still didn’t change my stance on it.But as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, trying — and failing — to get my tie to sit straight, it occurred to me that tonight wasn’t really about me.It was about her.Maria.And I’d already wasted enough damn time when it came to her.So I gritted my teeth, yanked the knot into something that vaguely resembled functional, and grabbed my jacket.I almost didn’t go.Again.When Sophia's text came through, “You have exactly fifteen minutes to get your stubborn self to Le Jardin before I come drag you here myself”, I’d stared at it for a solid minute before answering.Because part of me — the stupid part — still wondered if showing up would even matter anymore. Somewhere in the back of my mind though, I knew that if I truly did not show up, Sophia and her beau
MARIA'S POVThe first thing I noticed when I stepped out onto the terrace was how quiet it was.The hum of jazz and clinking glasses still carried faintly from inside, but out here — under the stars and city lights — it felt like a different world entirely.And there he was.Frank.Leaning against the railing like he belonged there, hands stuffed into his pockets, tie slightly crooked, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance as though he could stare down the skyline itself.He looked good. Annoyingly good. The kind of good that made you regret every hour you spent convincing yourself you were over it.I crossed my arms and cleared my throat. “You’re late.”He didn’t even flinch. Just glanced at me over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. The infuriating man. “And yet… here I am.”That earned him an eye roll. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that impressive.”His grin widened, and he turned fully toward me. “You sure about that?”Oh, he was insufferable.And — da
SOPHIA’S POVIf you’d told me even a month ago that I’d be waltzing into the opening of Le Jardin de fleur, the most buzzed about restaurant in the city, on the arm of Nathan Bennett, my mate, I would’ve laughed you straight out of my kitchen.Yet here we were. I chuckled softly. How things changed.It had been very last minute that the move to the pack had been postponed. The house wasn't quite there yet and it was simply a stroke of luck that Maria had called, with an invitation in hand and a friends/social outing in the other.And who was I not to jump at the opportunity? Anything to mingle in the culinary world and check out the friendly competition.So here we were, in the finest of outfits suitable for the event and a palpable excitement in our veins. We'd been looking forward to it from the moment we got the invite.The valet swung open the car door, and Nathan stepped out first — all clean lines, midnight suit, and the kind of quiet confidence that made heads turn. It was sex
LUCAS’ POVFor a moment, I couldn’t move.Grace stood there in my doorway like some half forgotten dream – tousled hair, a storm in her eyes, voice still trembling from whatever courage brought her here, her auburn hair blowing in the wind. And I just… froze.Maybe it was the fear I’d say the wrong thing again. Or maybe it was the way her presence softened everything in me I’d spent a lifetime keeping sharp.“Grace, it meant everything.” I said again, softer this time, like the words themselves might scare her off.But she didn’t run.She stepped inside.I closed the door behind her, quietly. The lock clicked, the kind of small sound that marks the end of something and the beginning of something else.She didn’t sit. Didn’t move farther in. Just stood near the entryway, like she was still deciding whether she’d made a mistake.I cleared my throat. “Do you want a drink? Water?”Her eyes met mine. “No. I want honesty.”A beat passed and I nodded.“Okay.”She paced. Not angrily – nervous
LUCAS’ POVThe bourbon was older than most of my regrets. But it burned the same.I let it sit in the glass for a long moment, untouched, the amber catching the low light of the penthouse. Outside the window, the city flickered like it was trying to outshine the quiet I couldn't drown.And in that silence, she lingered.Grace.Even her name was infuriatingly poetic. Grace – when she walked into a room, when she laughed at her own sarcasm, when she saw through me like I was made of glass.Which I was. With her, at least.And now?Now she was silence, too.Not the kind you welcome after a long day. The kind that keeps you awake, running through every word you shouldn’t have said, every one you should’ve.I dragged a hand through my hair, restless. Fuck. How did it get to this? How did I let it get to this? Damn it.I wasn’t good at this. Relationships. Feelings. Vulnerability. Whatever the hell this thing between us had become.I’d spent my life mastering control – over people, companie
GRACE'S POVThe day Sophia called…The mirror didn’t lie. Not tonight.Not when my makeup sat perfectly on my face, yet I couldn’t hide the storm behind my eyes. My lipstick was still fresh – some shade of deep wine I had no business wearing when my heart was running dry.I hadn’t heard from Lucas in five days.Not a text. Not a call. Not even one of his maddeningly vague voice notes. Nothing.Which would’ve been fine, if I hadn’t spent the days before that tangled up in him – literally, figuratively, and in every other way you could think of.And now?Now, he was just… gone.I sat on the edge of my couch, nursing a cup of reheated coffee I didn’t want, staring at my phone like it owed me answers.How had we gotten here?Just last week, he’d shown up at my door with Thai takeout and that stupid half smile, the one that made it hard to remember why I was always so guarded around him. It was the same night I had called Sophia, no response and Kate had said Daniel was at a function, and