Chapter 5

Luca swore under his breath and shoved the device into his pocket. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

Asher closed the door behind him. “Funny. I thought that was your father’s job.”

“Jesus Christ,” Luca muttered.

“What, no thanks for the message? I thought it was charming.”

Luca crossed the room in two steps, jaw tight. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk in here like.. like...”

“Like I know you?” Asher offered, voice quiet. Dangerous.

Luca didn’t respond.

Asher took a step forward. “You think if you keep pretending, the truth will disappear. That you can marry her, smile for the cameras, and nothing will crack. But it already has, Luca. You cracked.”

“I didn’t ask you to show up in my life.”

“No,” Asher said. “But you asked for something last night. And now you’re punishing yourself for it.”

“I’m not...”

“You are.” Asher’s voice softened, but not kindly. “Because you liked it. You liked me. And now you’re terrified someone saw.”

Luca’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not the one hiding behind a performance,” Asher said. “You are.”

Silence crackled like fire between them.

Then, finally, Luca spoke.

“I don’t get to be who I want.”

Asher blinked.

“I don’t get to fall in love,” Luca continued, voice strained. “I don’t get to choose who I kiss or who I wake up beside. I get to carry a family name and sign my soul away to boardrooms and press conferences. I get to wear the suit and smile and pretend. Because that’s what they need me to be.”

“And what do you need?”

Luca laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “Doesn’t matter.”

Asher looked at him for a long time.

Then stepped close.

Very close.

And for a second, Luca thought he was going to touch him. But he didn’t.

Instead, Asher said: “You’re wrong.”

He turned to leave.

But paused at the door.

“You said this can’t happen again,” he said. “But you never said you didn’t want it to.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

And Luca was left standing alone.

Breathless.

Shaken.

Wanting.

The click of the door echoed like a gunshot.

Luca stood frozen, breath shallow, staring at the space Asher had just occupied. The room felt colder without him. Too big. Too quiet. The words he left behind clung to the air like smoke.

You never said you didn’t want it to.

Luca’s throat tightened.

He didn’t think.

Didn’t plan.

He turned and ripped the door open.

The hallway outside was dim and narrow, and at the far end, Asher was walking away, calm, unhurried, like he hadn’t just torn Luca open with a few well placed words.

Luca’s steps were fast. Sharp. Controlled only by rage and heat and something else he couldn’t name.

“Asher.”

Asher turned, just as Luca reached him.

“What...”

Luca grabbed his jacket lapels and dragged him back into the lounge.

The door slammed shut behind them.

And then Luca kissed him.

No hesitation. No thinking. Just lips crashing into lips, desperate, fierce, a collision of fury and longing.

His hands tangled in Asher’s hair, pulling him closer like he was trying to erase the space between them, between who they had to be and who they really were.

Asher grunted against his mouth in surprise, then responded, fast, hungry, like he’d been waiting for permission.

He shoved Luca back against the wall, lips hard and claiming, fingers slipping beneath the lapels of Luca’s suit jacket, dragging them apart.

“You’re insane,” Asher muttered between kisses.

“I don’t care,” Luca growled, biting his bottom lip. “Don’t talk. Just... just...”

Asher kissed him again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against his with the kind of heat that burned the lie out of everything.

Luca moaned, low and ragged, as Asher’s hands traveled down his chest, undoing the top button of his shirt, fingers brushing skin.

The contact sent a shiver through him.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

Luca fumbled with Asher’s belt, pulling him closer, pressing their hips together. The friction made his knees weak. His head spun.

But then...

Footsteps.

Muffled. Distant. But close enough.

They both froze.

Asher’s breath was hot against his mouth.

Luca blinked, reality crashing back into his chest.

They were in the middle of an engagement party.

One wrong step, one opened door, and everything would explode.

He pulled back.

Breathless.

Luca stepped back, his breathing ragged. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveled from Asher’s touch, and tried to smooth his expression into something resembling composure.

“Luca?” Serena’s voice called from the other side, muffled but unmistakable. “Are you in there?”

Asher straightened his tie, his face a mask of calm again, though his lips were still slightly swollen.

He glanced at Luca, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “You should get that.”

Luca shot him a glare but didn’t respond. He opened the door just enough to peek out.

“Serena,” he said, his voice strained but steady. “What’s wrong?”

Her brows knit together. “Your father’s looking for you. He wants to introduce you to some investors.”

“Of course,” Luca said quickly. “I’ll be right there.”

She hesitated, her gaze flicking past him into the room, but whatever she saw, or didn’t see, seemed to satisfy her. She nodded and turned to leave.

Luca closed the door again, his forehead pressing against the wood. His heart hadn’t slowed.

Behind him, Asher chuckled softly. “Close call.”

Luca turned, his jaw tight. “This can’t happen again.”

“You keep saying that,” Asher said, his tone dry. “But you don’t seem very convincing.”

Luca stared at him, chest tight, every fiber of his being fighting the war between duty and desire. “You need to leave.”

Asher raised his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, Mr. Virelli.”