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Trouble Served with Lunch
Last Updated:
2025-08-26 17:53:23
Latest chapter
Straight Until Him Shadows at the Table
Alessandro’s POVThe morning light cut through the blinds in sharp lines across my polished floor. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the cufflinks on my tailored suit for the third time. Polished shoes. Hair perfectly styled. Breath steady. Face calm. But inside… chaos.The hotel photos were burned into my mind again. Blurry, grainy, intimate; proof someone knew. Proof someone had seen Micah and me. Someone might be watching. Who? Romano Corp? Sandra? Or someone… worse?I touched the edge of the collar, heart picking up speed. Every small sound in the apartment made me jump. A creak in the floor. A muffled honk outside. Someone could be outside my window. They could be waiting. I almost laughed at myself. Or maybe it would be better to cry.I rubbed my temple. Breathe, Alessandro.The knock on my door shattered the silence.“Alessandro.”Father.He stepped in, polished shoes tapping the marble. Armani suit, as always.“You’re dressed well,” he said, voice smooth bu
Straight Until Him Shadows in the Hall
Sandra’s POVI did not waltz out of Alessandro’s office because I had wrapped everything. I bailed because sometimes you gotta put some space between you and the chaos just to figure out what the hell is actually going on.So, here I was, leaning on this scratchy wall in the dead-silent hallway, pretending like I was glued to the latest disaster on my phone, thumbs tapping away. And my grin was pure theater, just me making sure nobody could read what was actually spinning around in my head.Then, the door creaked. That sound always gives me whiplash. I caught a flash of someone moving in the corner of my eye.Micah. Who else.He stepped out, tense. His shoulders were rigid, his gaze dark, scanning the hall like he was still inside some battlefield. I smirked, stepping closer, switching effortlessly into my “sisterly” mask.“Micah,” I called out, tossing him a half-grin as I walked up. “Didn’t know you were dropping in on Alessandro.”He shrugged, mumbling, “Just… checking in.” No emot
Straight Until Him Uninvited
Micah’s POVI knew this game already.Alessandro’s game.Step one: get close enough to make me believe he’s finally letting me in.Step two: panic, run, and lock himself back in his golden cage.Step three: leave me staring at my phone like a fool while he hides behind board meetings and marble walls.And here we were again.He ghosted my last five texts. Not a single call back, either. And he totally bailed on the charity thing last night; even though he was supposed to be glued to Sandra’s side.Not like I was dying to watch him cozy up to her or anything. I just needed to see him. Needed to know he hadn’t pulled some Houdini act and vanished for good.But here I was, planted in my apartment, just glaring at his stupid name lighting up my phone screen. Thumb poised over the call button. Again. Like some kind of tragic rerun.I muttered, “If I just stand here like a lawn ornament, he’s gonna crash and burn on his own. But maybe, if I poke him now, I can keep his sorry ass from going
Straight Until Him Fractured
Alessandro’s POVThe meeting crawled by slower than cold molasses. Felt like someone had died.Endless numbers. Charts for days. PowerPoint that could put a caffeine addict to sleep. Everyone just yammering about market shares, profits, expansions; blah blah blah.I’m parked at the head of this obnoxiously shiny mahogany table, that giant Romano Corp logo looming behind me like a threat. Suit’s on point, poker face locked in. Meanwhile, the board members are squirming, each one desperate to wow me with their snooze-fest slides.“…projected growth in the third quarter will…”I totally spaced out. My eyes kinda wandered off to the window, and the city out there, it just stretched forever, all dramatic and weirdly fake, like someone couldn’t be bothered to build real stuff, so they just threw a giant painting up instead.Keep your mind busy, Alessandro. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about him.Sandra’s sharp perfume.Micah’s steady eyes.The sound of my own voice breaking in the gar
Straight Until Him Control
Sandra’s POVMorning light crept through the silk curtains, soft and golden. I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling of my room in the Duvall mansion.For a moment, I almost forgot.Then it hit me.Alessandro. His tears. His retreat. The way he just walked out, left me sprawled there; bare, humiliated, like a joke he’d already forgotten.I dragged myself up, no rush, sheets tangled around my legs. My hands fussed with the creases, like that would smooth out the mess inside my head, too. Gotta breathe. Gotta fake that calm, perfect rhythm. Ladies aren’t supposed to let the world see them crack, right? Whatever. I caught a glimpse of myself in that ridiculous vanity mirror; hair a little wild, lips swollen like I’d lost a fight. His kiss barely counted anyway. Pathetic.I lifted my chin because hell if I’d let some loser see me fold.“Sandra Duvall doesn’t lose,” I muttered at my own reflection, voice razor-thin.Rejection still burned; a real, white-hot ache. That just meant it was ga
Straight Until Him Running From Myself
Alessandro’s POVI ran.My shoes made this ridiculous smack-smack sound on those shiny floors like the house itself wanted everyone to know I was running. Every step just bounced off the stupid walls and followed me, like I could outrun the noise or something. My lungs were on fire. My throat felt like someone had tied it in a knot. And my eyes, I could barely see, but I’ll be damned if I let those tears win.Sandra’s voice was still stuck in my head, floating over from the garden; way too sugary, but it had claws. Micah’s hand on my face burned hotter, like it had branded me. And me? I was nothing but a mess trying to hold myself together before the whole house saw me fall apart.I passed a tall mirror in the hall and stopped for just a second.What I saw was not me. Not the Alessandro Romano the world knew. Not the perfect son. Not the polished heir.Just a stranger; red-eyed, hair falling out of place, shirt wrinkled, mouth trembling. Pathetic.“Pull it together,” I snapped at the
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