Chapter 3

There was a flicker in Asher’s eyes then, something unreadable, but sharp. Like he enjoyed this. Like he wanted to see how far Luca would go to keep pretending.

Serena stepped closer to Asher, touching his arm lightly. “Asher just got back from overseas last month. Military contract. Special ops, or something, but he never gives me details.” She smiled up at him. “Classified and mysterious, as always.”

Asher chuckled, low, soft. And Luca hated how familiar it sounded. How it made his skin burn.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Asher said again, holding Luca’s gaze. “Face to face.”

Luca swallowed the lump in his throat. “Likewise.”

There was a pause. Serena’s assistant knocked, asking if they were ready for the rehearsal photos.

“Why don’t you boys get acquainted?” Serena said, stepping toward the door. “I’ll just fix my lipstick.”

She disappeared into the adjoining room.

And then they were alone.

The door clicked shut.

The silence roared.

Luca stepped back. His jaw tightened. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Asher blinked, slow. “That’s not the ‘thank you’ I expected after last night.”

“You knew who I was.”

“No, actually,” Asher said calmly. “I didn’t. Until Serena showed me a photo this morning. Imagine my surprise.”

Luca’s stomach twisted. “You should’ve said something. At the club. At the hotel...”

“What?” Asher cut in. “Between your third drink and the part where you shoved me against the wall?”

Luca flushed. “Keep your voice down.”

Asher tilted his head, watching him like he was entertainment. “You’re scared someone’s going to hear? Maybe your bride to be? Or Daddy Dearest downstairs?”

Luca stepped closer, voice low and sharp. “You don’t get to walk in here smirking like this is some kind of game.”

Asher’s smirk faded. “You think I planned this?”

“I think you’re enjoying it.”

A beat passed between them.

Then Asher leaned in, not enough to touch, but close enough to make Luca’s breath catch.

“I’m not enjoying anything,” he murmured. “But I can’t lie, it’s fun watching the king of the golden cage squirm.”

Luca’s jaw clenched.

“You think you know who I am?” he hissed.

“I know what you sound like when you stop pretending.”

Luca’s pulse slammed in his ears.

Asher stepped back, finally breaking the tension. “Don’t worry,” he added, casually now. “Your secret’s safe. I don’t out people.”

“That’s not why I...” Luca cut himself off.

He didn’t know what he was about to say.

Asher turned toward the door. “I’ll see you at the party, Luca.” He looked over his shoulder with that same half smile. “I’ll even keep pretending we’ve never met. Just like you asked.”

And then he was gone.

Luca barely made it to the bathroom before the panic hit.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the porcelain sink.

He stared at his reflection, eyes wide, lips parted, a sheen of sweat already forming on his temple.

He looked wrecked.

One night.

One mistake.

Now that mistake had a name. A face. A connection that bound them tighter than lust ever could.

He thought he could keep his secrets buried in locked hotel rooms and late night shadows.

He never imagined the shadows would show up at his engagement party.

He splashed water on his face and bit back the scream rising in his chest.

He couldn’t fall apart.

Downstairs, the mansion buzzed with the arrival of press and aristocrats. Champagne flowed, strings played soft music in the courtyard, and every corner smelled like money pretending to be love.

Luca descended the grand staircase in silence, his face composed, his jaw set.

Asher was already mingling with guests.

He looked good.

Dangerously good.

And worse, comfortable.

As if he belonged in this world. As if he hadn’t seen Luca naked last night and wasn’t thinking about it every time their eyes met across the room.

And Luca?

He couldn’t stop looking.

Which was a problem.

Because someone else was watching, too.

Luca could feel it in every practiced smile, every champagne toast clinked too precisely, every camera flash that burned like a warning.

The Virelli Hartwell engagement party wasn’t just an event, it was a parade of illusions, a carefully orchestrated illusion of unity, love, and empire.

And Luca?

He was the lead actor in a tragedy disguised as a fairy tale.

His arm curled around Serena’s waist as they posed for another round of photos in the rose garden.

The photographers gushed. Her eyes sparkled. Her laughter was perfect. She played the role flawlessly, and he matched her step for step.

But inside, he was unraveling.

Because every time he looked beyond the camera lenses, he was there.

Asher.

Lingering in the background. Dark suit, wine glass in hand, and that expression, equal parts knowing and unreadable.

He hadn’t said a word since their confrontation upstairs. But he didn’t need to.

His silence was a blade.

Luca felt its edge every time Asher glanced his way.

“Smile, darling,” Serena whispered, her lips barely moving.

Luca blinked. “What?”

“For the engagement ring shot. You’re zoning out.”

He adjusted his hand on her waist and forced a smile. A flicker of guilt crept in.

Serena didn’t deserve this.

She didn’t deserve the lies stitched between every laugh they shared in public. She was cold, calculating, yes, but not cruel. She was surviving this world the same way he was. Playing the game.

Only difference was, she didn’t know he was bluffing.

Not entirely.

The crowd applauded as the string quartet struck up a soft waltz, and guests began drifting toward the ballroom.

The garden lights twinkled overhead like stars trying to outshine the truth.

“I need a drink,” Luca murmured.

Serena nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll meet you inside. I need to speak to my father about the itinerary.”

She kissed his cheek, an affectionate, mechanical gesture, then turned gracefully and disappeared into the crowd.

Luca turned the opposite way and slipped toward the back veranda, past the edge of the lights.

He needed space. Air. A second to stop pretending.

But of course, he wasn’t alone.