Chapter 13

Rielle.

I had accepted where I stood with Zayden.

Sex partners. That was it.

We were just fulfilling each other’s needs, using one another like lifelines we didn’t even want to admit we needed. No hard feelings. No feelings at all, actually. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

But the stares at the office said otherwise. The whispers. The way people’s eyes would linger on me when I walked in, when I came out of his office looking a little too flushed, a little too undone. They knew. They all knew.

Zayden’s little sex toy.

It stung, sometimes more than I cared to admit. Some days I wore the title like armor, pretending I didn’t care. Other days it burned so deep I wanted to claw out of my own skin. Was this really all I had been reduced to? Just a body to take the edge off for a man who would never give me more?

I shook the thought off and forced myself to focus on the report glowing on my screen. My fingers tapped away at the keys, the rhythm mechanical, until a voice broke through.

“Coffee?”

I looked up. Lucas stood in front of me, a paper cup in hand and the faintest smile tugging at his mouth.

This wasn’t the first time. He had a way of showing up just when my eyelids felt too heavy or when the stress pressed a little too hard at my temples.

“I know, I look like I need it, right?” I said, accepting the cup. Our fingers brushed briefly, and he let out a soft chuckle that seemed to come from deep in his chest.

“Everybody that works for my brother needs coffee,” he replied, lowering himself onto the edge of my desk like he had all the time in the world. His tone was light, teasing, nothing like Zayden’s sharp, cutting words.

I took a sip and let the warmth settle in me. Lucas had that effect too — a kind of quiet ease that wrapped around me, steadying instead of unsettling.

“You know,” I said, arching a brow, “you’re spoiling me. Keep this up and I might start expecting it every morning.”

He grinned, tilting his head. “And what would be so terrible about that?”

I rolled my eyes, hiding my smile behind the cup. “You’d go broke buying coffee for the entire company if you started spoiling everyone like this.”

“Ah, but I don’t hand out coffee to everyone,” he countered smoothly. “Just the people who look like they need it most.”

“And I always look like I need it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes playfully.

His gaze softened, and for a second, I thought he saw more than I wanted him to. But then he leaned back, tapping the desk with his knuckles. “Let’s just say you work harder than most around here. Hard work deserves fuel.”

There it was again — that warmth. Lucas didn’t look at me like I was a scandal or like I was someone’s dirty secret. He looked at me like I was just… me.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “You always sound like you’ve got motivational speeches up your sleeve. You should save some for the next company retreat.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, you don’t want me giving speeches. I’d end up talking about football or how to make the perfect pasta.”

“Perfect pasta?” I raised a brow. “Do I sense a hidden chef?”

“Hidden, yes. Chef… questionable.” He grinned again, and I found myself laughing despite the knot of shame I’d been carrying all morning.

For a moment, I allowed myself to just exist in this space — no labels, no whispered gossip, no heavy weight of Zayden pressed on my skin. Just light, harmless banter with a man who made the room feel brighter.

“So,” I said, tilting my head. “Why are you the opposite of your brother?”

That made him pause. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features, but it was gone so fast I almost thought I imagined it.

“Opposite?” he repeated, buying himself time.

“You know what I mean.” I gestured vaguely. “He’s… intense. You’re… not.”

He exhaled softly through his nose, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “Individual differences, Rielle. That’s all.”

I studied him for a second, curiosity itching at the back of my mind. But I didn’t push. His eyes told me there was a story there, maybe several, but his tone made it clear I wasn’t getting it today.

“Fair enough,” I said with a shrug, sipping my coffee.

We fell into an easy rhythm after that. He asked about my work, not in the superficial way people did to fill silence, but genuinely — curious about the project I’d been buried in, asking questions, making little comments that showed he was actually listening.

I found myself telling him things I didn’t usually share with anyone at work. About how exhausting it was to always be “on,” about how Moscow winters made me miss home, about how sometimes I just wanted one day where everything was simple.

And he listened. Really listened.

When my cup was nearly empty, I glanced at him and smiled faintly. “You know, you’re easy to talk to.”

He lifted a brow, pretending to be smug. “Easier than my brother?”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Don’t push it.”

But the truth was, he was. Lucas was light where Zayden was shadow, warmth where Zayden was fire. Not that I was comparing. I wasn’t. I couldn’t.

All I knew was this: I wanted Lucas as a friend. Just a friend. Someone steady, someone safe. Someone who reminded me I was more than the whispers, more than the scandal, more than the role I played in Zayden’s orbit.

When he finally stood, brushing invisible lint off his suit, he gave me that same warm smile. “Don’t work yourself into the ground, Rielle.”

I nodded, watching him leave, and for the first time in a long while, the weight on my chest felt a little lighter.