Chapter 21~ None Of Them Interest Me

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The quiet apartment seemed to hold its breath, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread.

Nina sat stiffly on the couch, painfully aware of how close Lucas was beside her. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing in the stillness.

The dim kitchen light spilled faintly into the living room, casting soft shadows across his face and highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.

He looked… tired.

Not physically exhausted, though there were faint circles beneath his eyes.

But something deeper. Something that went beyond mere fatigue… a weariness that seemed to settle into his bones, dimming the usual spark in his gaze.

Without really thinking, Nina leaned closer, her concern overriding her self-consciousness. She reached out and pressed the back of her hand lightly against his forehead, her touch gentle and tentative.

Lucas blinked, surprise flickering across his features.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and slightly rough.

Nina frowned, her brow creasing with worry. "Checking your temperature," she said matter-of-factly.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him with genuine concern. "Are you sick or something? You're acting strange."

Lucas stared at her for a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes before he slowly shook his head.

"I'm fine," he murmured. He paused, his gaze never leaving her face. Then he said quietly, almost hesitantly, "Just stay."

The words were simple, barely more than a whisper.

But something about the way he said them… the raw vulnerability threaded through his voice made Nina's chest tighten slightly. Her heart gave an unexpected flutter.

She pulled her hand back, suddenly aware of how intimate the gesture had been, and forced herself to calm down.

Relax, she told herself firmly.

It's just a conversation. Nothing more.

She inhaled slowly and leaned back into the couch, willing her racing thoughts to settle. But before she could say anything else, Lucas suddenly spoke again.

"Have you thought about my proposal?"

Nina blinked, her mind momentarily blank.

"Your… what?"

Lucas turned his head slightly toward her, his gaze steady and expectant. "The reward." Her brain froze for half a second as the memory crashed back into focus. Then, her eyes widened dramatically, her pulse quickening.

"Oh my God."

"You were serious about that?!" The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Lucas didn't look amused. If anything, his expression grew more solemn.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Nina stared at him like he had just told her the moon was made of cheese. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

"I thought you were joking!" She heard the pitch of her own voice rising. "Marriage?!" she nearly squeaked, heat flooding her cheeks.

"Yes," Lucas replied calmly, as though discussing the weather.

"Marriage."

Nina ran a hand through her hair in disbelief, her fingers trembling slightly. This couldn't be happening. This conversation couldn't actually be happening.

"That's not something people joke about!" Her voice carried a note of desperation now. Lucas simply watched her, his dark eyes unwavering and impossible to read. "And why would I joke about it?"

Nina threw her hands into the air, exasperation and panic warring within her chest.

"Because it's ridiculous!"

She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing how harsh that sounded. Then quickly corrected herself, her words tumbling over each other.

"I mean—"

She pointed between them, her gesture almost frantic.

"This!"

"This whole thing!"

"It's impossible!" The declaration hung in the air between them, heavy with all the unspoken reasons she couldn't… wouldn't let herself believe he meant it.

Lucas's expression remained unreadable.

"Why?"

Nina stared at him in disbelief, her eyes searching his face for any hint that this was some elaborate joke.

"Why?" she repeated, the word catching in her throat. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, brittle and uncertain.

"Where do I even begin?" She gestured toward him with a sweep of her hand, the movement almost theatrical in its desperation. "You're Lucas Grant! You're rich, powerful, successful… everything I'm not."

Her hands traced invisible patterns in the air as if she could somehow make him understand by sheer force of gesture.

"And you're surrounded by women who are just as impressive as you are. Beautiful, educated, elegant women who know which fork to use at a state dinner, who can discuss art and politics without breaking a sweat." Her chest tightened as she continued. "Women who grew up in the same world as you, who understand the rules of your society."

Her voice softened, losing some of its defensive edge. "You could pick anyone among them. Any one of those polished, perfect women would say yes in a heartbeat."

Then she added quietly, almost to herself, "Who wouldn't want to be Lucas Grant's wife?"

The title Mrs. Grant alone carried enormous prestige—a name that opened doors, commanded respect, turned heads at every social gathering.

Power.

Status.

Influence.

Access to a world most people only glimpsed in magazines. Half the city's elite daughters would fight each other for it, would scheme and maneuver for even the chance to stand where she stood now.

But Nina wasn't one of them. She had never been part of that glittering world, never wanted the weight of those expectations on her shoulders.

And she didn't want to be.

Her gaze drifted toward the kitchen, taking in the familiar surroundings that had become her sanctuary.

Her tiny apartment, with its cramped rooms and narrow hallway. The peeling paint near the ceiling, a reminder of the landlord's empty promises to fix it. The old couch beneath her, sagging from years of use but still comfortable in its own worn way.

She had already learned her lesson once, and the memory still stung like an open wound.

The Hale family, with their cold smiles and calculating eyes. The way they treated relationships like business deals, measuring worth in terms of social standing and financial advantage. Like transactions, nothing more than entries in a ledger to be balanced and reconciled.

That experience had been enough to scar her for a lifetime, leaving her wary of anyone who moved in those circles. She'd watched them dissect her background with surgical precision, weighing her value against their expectations. The humiliation had cut deep, teaching her that in their world, love was just another commodity to be traded.

Now, surrounded by her modest possessions, she felt the familiar comfort of knowing exactly where she stood. No pretense. No performance. Just her, in a space that demanded nothing more than what she could give.

And then Adrian.

Just the thought of his name made her chest tighten, a familiar ache spreading through her ribs like frost creeping across glass. Drama. Expectations. Betrayal. The trifecta that had nearly destroyed her.

No. 

She wasn't walking back into that world again. Not for anyone, no matter how compelling their words or how genuine their eyes seemed in this moment.

Lucas watched her quietly, his expression patient as these thoughts flickered across her face like shadows cast by a dying fire. He seemed to read each one, understanding the weight they carried.

"Because none of them interest me," he said finally. Nina blinked, pulled abruptly from her spiral of memories.

"They are impressive," he continued, his tone measured and calm.

"Yes," she managed.

"They are beautiful."

"Yes."

"But they are predictable." He paused, letting the word settle between them. "They perform their roles flawlessly… the perfect daughter, the ideal wife-to-be, the accomplished socialite. I can predict every conversation, every gesture, every carefully rehearsed laugh."

His gaze settled on her then, steady and focused, stripping away the defenses she'd so carefully constructed.

"And you…" He leaned forward slightly, the movement subtle but deliberate.

Nina suddenly felt acutely aware of the space between them, how it had somehow shrunk without her noticing, how the air seemed charged with something she couldn't quite name. Her pulse quickened.

"None of them intrigue me the way you do," Lucas finished quietly, his voice carrying a sincerity that made her breath catch.