ELISHA’S POVAnthony’s upcoming birthday party was announced in the papers. That wasn’t the one I’d been invited to, apparently. Looking at the invitation again, this seemed like a private, more intimate party with just the two of us. The venue was his penthouse… the same one where we’d spent the night together after the incident at the hotel with Damian. I knew what he was trying to do… I wasn’t a fool.“Did you get my invite?” he asked me when he called. “Yes, seems like a fun party,” I teased. “Oh yes, very fun. Super small. Just a close friend.”“Right,” I laughed.Then came the tone I recognized too well—apologetic and sheepish.“Listen,” he began. “You probably saw the news about the big country‑house party at Grandad’s place…”Of course, I had.“Yes,” I said softly.“Look—I’m only going for an hour. To be polite. But I want to spend the evening with you. Alone. You understand, right?”Of course I did. I was once part of this world. We had to be polite, present, and diplomat
ANTHONY’S POVI had everything planned for tonight. Something simple, private. Just her and me.A late dinner on the terrace of my penthouse, the skyline lit up in the distance. Her favorite playlist and a candlelit table set by a chef flown in from Italy. Every detail was for her. I didn’t want gifts or speeches. I wanted Elisha.But plans rarely survive my family.My stepmother had other ideas—an entire celebration at Grandad’s country house. Champagne fountains. Ice sculptures. Imported orchids from Thailand. She said it was just a “little gathering,” but I knew better. There’d be hundreds of guests, photographers, catered food, and a full bar. And I had to show up—if only out of respect.My father didn’t care for such parties. He barely cared for birthdays. But Priscilla loved appearances. She always had. Especially now, with Grandad watching everything more closely.So I put on the tux. I combed my hair back. And I drove two hours out of the city just to wave at a crowd of peop
ELISHA’S POVOver the next few weeks, every time I arrived at the lab, there was always a gift in my locker. Always with a card… always with a message to have a nice day… always signed. Anthony. The gifts were always expensive—a designer wallet, a pair of Cartier earrings, and a rare perfume—and always accompanied by snacks. Belgian chocolate-covered pretzels. French macaroons. Sometimes he’d send a packed lunch around noon. I couldn’t fathom what he was trying to do here… we had clearly left things on bad terms. He’d been walking around with a scar on his lip that hadn’t healed as fast as he’d hoped. People stared… but didn’t dare ask. That morning, I opened my locker to find the day’s haul: a luxurious essential oil set from India and a basket of freshly baked muffins from my favorite bakery. I breathed in the scent as I unpacked my work bag. “What is it this time?” I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to see Davina, grinning ear to ear. I subtly packed the oils into my b
ELISHA’S POVI hated that I was breaking down like this in front of him. The one person I had spent months trying to prove I was over. The one person who had shattered me in every way, and still walked like he owned the world. And now, here I was—eyes red, voice cracking, tears streaming—and he just sat there watching.My vision blurred. I wiped at my face with trembling fingers, desperate to pull myself together. I tried not to sniffle. I tried to steady my breathing. Every thought screamed to pull away, to walk out the door, to do anything but sit here, exposed and unraveling.We sat in our own secluded tent. A private canopy with thick white curtains, soft lighting, and a small candle burning on the table. It was meant to be romantic. It felt suffocating. The hushed murmur of the other diners was muffled, the outside world just beyond the linen drapes. Even with the curtains, I still felt like I was on display. For him. Every inch of my grief, my humiliation, my breaking—he had
ELISHA’S POVI stared at my phone for a moment before I answered. My heart thudded.“Hello?”A wail greeted me. I might have thought it was an animal screaming if Natalie hadn’t burst out: “Eli, you have to help me!”My stomach pulled in knots. “What the hell happened?”“What? How did that happen?”“Anthony came here this morning,” she continued between sobs, “and told Dad not to make you marry Francesco. Dad said he gave his word to Ralph Marino. So if you won’t marry his son… I should!”Her voice cracked. I heard tension behind it. Despite everything, I felt a pang of pity. It seemed our father treated us both like pieces on a chessboard. There was both depression and relief in that fact. “I’m sorry, Nat,” I said carefully. “Francesco is… actually a good guy. Maybe meet him once?”She slammed her palm somewhere. “He’s a freak! He’s obsessed with cars! Why doesn’t he just marry one?”“Nat, that’s not nice—”She cut in sharp and fast. “And why is Anthony coming to fight your battles?
ELISHA’S POVAfter a simple breakfast and Anthony’s hangover cure—4 raw eggs—he dropped me off to my apartment. The conversation was minimal… but felt loaded. He pulled into the driveway. As I stepped out, he did too.“What are you doing?” I asked before I could stop myself. “What? I’m coming to see Bubblegum!” I stared at him. He hadn’t cared about that dog ever… and suddenly he wanted to come up and spend time with her? “Why?” I asked suspiciously. He shut the car door and walked around to shut mine too. “Because Bubblegum matters to you. And if she matters to you… she matters to me.”I blinked, unsure what to make of it. We walked up together, tension thrumming in every step. Inside the apartment, Bubblegum burst from the couch and raced straight to him, yapping in delight as she hopped around his feet! “Bubblegum, come away from him!” I commanded, but she wouldn’t listen. “Wow, so petty…” Anthony teased me as he bent down to pick up Bubblegum. “I don’t know what’s gotten