All Chapters of The Wrong Kind Of Right: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

The sunlight was too bright.Luca winced as it slid through the gap in the blackout curtains, carving its way across the hotel room like a judgment he hadn’t asked for.His head pulsed behind his eyes, the aftershocks of whiskey and regret pounding with surgical precision.Somewhere on the floor, his phone buzzed for the fifth time.He didn’t move.His arm was draped over his eyes, blocking the light, the world, and the reality waiting just outside this quiet cocoon of crumpled sheets and unfamiliar silence.Beside him, the bed was empty.Luca turned his head, slowly. The other side of the mattress was cold, the covers tugged back, the imprint already fading.No sign of the man from last night. No name. No note.Exactly what he expected.Exactly what he told himself he wanted.And yet, he stared at that hollow space like it had something to say.You should feel relieved, he thought. This was never supposed to be anything.But he didn’t feel relieved.He felt... hollow. Stripped bare i

“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

The first lie was the smile.Luca forced it onto his face as he reentered the ballroom, walking beside Serena like nothing had happened. Like his heart wasn’t still racing.Like he hadn’t kissed her brother against a wall twenty minutes ago and wanted to do it again.His tie felt too tight. His skin, too hot. He adjusted his collar for the third time as they approached the cluster of investors his father had summoned.Paolo Virelli turned toward them, his eyes sharp as ever.“There he is,” Paolo said, motioning to Luca like he was nothing more than a trophy to be presented. “My son. The future of Virelli Global.”Luca nodded politely, shaking hands with the men gathered in the corner. They were old money, pressed suits, shiny shoes, smug smiles that came from decades of power.He smiled. He made small talk.And all the while, his mind stayed in that room with Asher. The heat of his touch. The feel of his lips. The electric sense of rightness that terrified him more than anything else

One of the photographers wandered closer, probably trying to get a shot of “the mysterious Hartwell brother.” Asher turned his head deliberately, catching the lens head on, and gave it a lazy smirk.The flash went off anyway.Seconds later, Serena was at his side.She looked calm. Polished. But her voice was low and direct.“What the hell are you doing?”“Standing here. Breathing air. Being handsome,” he replied.“Asher.”He glanced down at her. “Relax. You look great. So does he.”She didn’t flinch. “You’re making things harder for him.”“He kissed me, Serena.”“And you let him.”They stared at each other, a private storm forming in the eye of the polished room.Asher’s voice dropped. “He wants something real. And you? You’re offering him a cage with velvet wallpaper.”Her expression flickered, not anger. Not guilt.Pain.“He doesn’t get to have real,” she said softly. “Not without destroying everything we’ve been building since we were kids.”Asher stepped back. “That’s not love.”“