Chapter 4

“You look like you want to jump off the balcony,” Asher said from behind him.

Luca didn’t turn around. “Don’t tempt me.”

Asher approached slowly, footsteps quiet. “Well, if you’re going to throw yourself over a railing, wait until after the dessert. I hear they’re flying in a six tier cake.”

Luca let out a sharp exhale, half laugh, half cough. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” Asher said. “I think it’s tragic. But if I don’t laugh, I might punch someone.”

Luca finally turned, jaw tight. “You said you’d pretend.”

“I am.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know me.”

Asher stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I do.”

“You don’t,” Luca bit out. “You know one night. That’s not who I am.”

“You sure?” Asher asked, voice low. “Because the guy I met last night, he didn’t flinch when he kissed me. He wasn’t careful or scared. He just was. And if you’re saying that wasn’t you, then you’re a better liar than I thought.”

Luca turned away, chest tight.

Silence fell between them.

Wind stirred the hedges. Somewhere inside, a string of laughter rang out. The real world, loud and oblivious.

“I can’t be that guy,” Luca said finally, voice barely audible. “Not here.”

Asher’s voice softened. “Why not?”

“Because if I am, everything falls apart.”

Asher didn’t reply.

Instead, he moved beside Luca and leaned on the balcony railing. Close enough to touch, but not quite.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Was this whole thing always planned for you? The engagement. The dynasty.”

“Yes.”

“And you never wanted any of it?”

Luca didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Asher’s fingers tapped his glass, idle and restless. “Then why play along?”

Luca looked at him then, really looked. “Because in my world, you don’t say no to your father. You survive him.”

Asher’s eyes darkened. “Is that what this is? Survival?”

Luca’s throat tightened. “What would you call it?”

“I’d call it slow death.”

They stared at each other, the truth blistering between them.

And Luca hated how much he wanted to close the distance again. To reach for him. To risk everything for just one real thing in a world made of fakes.

But instead, he said nothing.

Because someone cleared their throat behind them.

Luca turned, heart stalling.

It was Paolo Virelli.

Sharp suit. Cold eyes. Disapproval etched into every line of his face.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” his father said. “The guests are asking about you.”

Luca straightened instantly. “I was getting air.”

Paolo glanced at Asher. “And you are?”

“Asher Hartwell,” Asher said coolly. “Serena’s brother.”

There was a slight pause, a flicker of calculation behind Paolo’s eyes.

“Hm,” he said. “Didn’t realize the Hartwells came with extra baggage.”

Luca’s stomach dropped.

Asher just smiled. “Only the kind that bites.”

Paolo turned back to Luca. “Smile more. Walk taller. You’re a Virelli, not some… brooding poet.”

With that, he vanished back into the house.

Luca let out a breath like a bullet had just grazed him.

Asher looked at him sideways. “Your dad’s charming.”

“Welcome to the cage,” Luca muttered.

They stood in silence again, until Luca said, “You should go inside. Before someone connects the dots.”

Asher didn’t move. “Two can pretend, Luca. But eventually, someone always stops playing.”

Luca said nothing as Asher walked away.

Luca watched Asher’s retreating figure until the shadows swallowed him whole.

The moment he was gone, Luca gripped the balcony railing hard enough that his knuckles turned bone white. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it burst out of him in a quiet, ragged exhale.

His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since that damned hotel room. Only now it wasn’t lust or adrenaline, it was dread, curling like smoke in his lungs.

You should’ve never touched him.

But he had.

And it wasn’t just the kiss.

It was what it meant.

What it said about the part of himself he’d buried so deep, he didn’t recognize it until Asher reached in and pulled it out without asking.

And now that version of him, wild, honest, real, was loose.

And walking around in Serena’s family.

Luca straightened his shoulders. Smoothed his jacket. Steeled his jaw.

Then he walked back into the ballroom.

Inside, the engagement party had transformed into something glittering and grand.

Golden chandeliers bathed the room in soft light, and a four piece string ensemble played music that was just loud enough to distract from conversation but not loud enough to excuse silence.

He could do this. He’d done it a hundred times. He knew the rules.

Smile. Shake hands. Speak in measured tones. Laugh just enough. Never first. Never too loud.

He wove through the guests like a man weaving through a war zone, calm on the surface, chaos just beneath the skin.

There, on the far side of the room, stood Serena.

Poised. Polished. Surrounded by legacy donors and two women from the board of the Hartwell Foundation. She glanced over her shoulder when he entered, and their eyes met.

She smiled.

It was soft. Brief. Measured.

And it made something twist in Luca’s chest.

She didn’t love him. That much was clear.

But she trusted him. Or wanted to.

And that was somehow worse.

He joined her side and slipped seamlessly into the conversation. Talk of the upcoming joint venture with tech firm ClyneTech, whispers of a possible European expansion. Serena kept a perfectly rehearsed cadence, and Luca mirrored it effortlessly.

This was the dance they knew.

They were flawless.

And yet...

His eyes betrayed him.

Because every few minutes, they drifted.

To him.

Asher leaned against the far column near the bar. One hand in his pocket, the other holding a whiskey. His tie had loosened. His jacket was unbuttoned. He looked nothing like the other guests.

And yet he belonged.

Effortlessly.

He wasn’t speaking to anyone. Just watching.

Luca.

Like a dare.

Later, Luca found himself alone again, this time in the private lounge off the ballroom.

He closed the door behind him and leaned his head back against the dark paneled wall. The room smelled like cigars and old money. The fireplace crackled softly, untouched but for show.

His phone buzzed.

A text.

Unknown Number
You looked bored. I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not.

Luca stared at the screen.

He didn’t need to guess.

Luca:
Delete my number.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then appeared again.

Unknown:
You gave it to me.

Luca clenched his teeth. Typed, then deleted. Then typed again.

Luca:
This can’t happen again.

Unknown:
Define “this.”

Another buzz.

Then:

Last night in the hotel? The part where you kissed me first? Or the part where you’ve looked at me across the room like you want to do it again?

Luca stared at the screen so long his vision blurred.

The door opened.

And he didn’t have time to hide the phone.

Asher stepped inside.