Which is funny, because if anyone knows how good Luca is at control, it’s me.
He’s leaning back in his chair now, long fingers steepled, watching Chad like he’s grading a group project presentation from hell. Occasionally, he glances at me like he knows I’m dying inside and is enjoying every second of it.
I pretend I don’t notice. I’ve gotten very good at pretending.
“Hold up,” Luca says, raising a hand in that slow, casual wave people use when they don’t remember your name but want you to say it for them.
“Chad,” he offers, like he’s meeting a royal.
“Chad,” Luca repeats, lips twitching at the corners. “I have a question for you.”
Oh no.
“Of course,” Chad says, straightening his spine like a proud peacock.
“Are you trying to sell me your company?”
Boom.There it is.
Chad chokes on air. I shoot him a don’t-look-at-me-I-tried-to-warn-you glance.
“N-no,” he says, giving the fakest polite laugh I’ve ever heard. “Just giving context.”
“Then stop wasting my time with its backstory,” Luca replies, cutting through the room like a blade. “I’m here for ideas.Herideas.” His eyes lock onto mine like a missile.
Oh. God.
I sit up straighter. My mouth is suddenly dry, and I can feel every molecule of air between us.
“Mr. Walker,” I say carefully. And just like that—snap—his attention sharpens. All of it. It’s terrifying and electrifying.
And completely, completely unfair.
He doesn’t speak, but the silence wraps around me, dense and charged. The last time he looked at me like this, I was seventeen, and the only thing between us was a secret we didn’t know how to keep.
“You’re right,” I say, somehow keeping my voice steady. “Let’s start the presentation.”
“Thank you,” he replies—cool, clipped, unreadable.
I rise and walk to the screen, my heels clicking like a metronome counting down to personal disaster. I canfeelhim watching me. Not just watching—studying.
I chose this outfit like armor. Pale pink suit, soft white blouse, heels that kill. Because when you’re facing Luca Walker for the first time in almost twelve years, you need every illusion of power you can get.
He used to look at me like I was both the sin and the salvation. Now? He looks like judgment day. I take a breath and start clicking through the slides.
Don’t look at him. Don’t even glance. I focus on Chad—coward’s move—but one look at Luca already twisted my stomach into some very complicated origami.
He hasn’t moved. Not a muscle. He’s marble now. Marble with a beard and a suit and the kind of expression that makes me second-guess my entire life.
Still beautiful. Stillhim.
“We want to convey elegance with Property Group Florida,” I say, guiding us through a carefully curated series of beachfront homes, sleek penthouses, and Miami Luxury. All of it was tailored to impress him.
“Take me back,” he says, his jaw set, eyes narrowing at the screen.
I freeze.
“W-what?” I stammer, my lips parting before I can stop them.
