“He’s the CFO of VistaReal.”
Seriously? That was somehow even more shocking than the boyfriend part. Sebastian actually stepped back? While starting his own company? That didn’t fit. At all.
Raúl studied me for a moment, something like hesitation flickering across his face. “I assumed you knew… with everything that’s been going on, there are more eyes on him. Articles.”
My pulse stumbled at that word—articles. “Knew what?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if reconsidering. “It’s been… a demanding month,” he said instead. “Nothing he won’t outmaneuver.”
Curiosity clawed up my throat, and I was about to push for more when Henry’s laugh cut between us—loud and bright.
Raúl and I both looked over.
Huh…
Henry was standing, brushing invisible soot off his clothes like he’d just survived a mild explosion, very pointedlynotlooking at Mateo—who was smiling at him. Not a big grin, just… interested.
Raúl clicked his tongue and muttered a quiet string of Spanish curses before stalking toward them. Henry shook Mateo’s hand way too fast, mumbled something, and immediately beelined for me before Raúl could open his mouth. He grabbed my arm and steered me off without so much as a backward glance.
“What just happened?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.
Mateo shrugged at whatever Raúl was saying—Raúl looked half-pissed, Mateo looked unbothered—and then Mateo’s eyes drifted right to Henry’s retreating back. Lingering.
“Nothing,” Henry said. “Meeting’s over.”
“What did he say?” I grinned. “You’re all flushed.”
Henry pressed his lips together, still walking. “That I had a great smile.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Youdohave a dreamy smile.”
“The dreamiest,” he said, nodding solemnly. “One of my most attractive features.”
“And you love when people point that out.”
“Yes.”
“But not right now.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He might be my employee,” he said. “That’s unprofessional.”
I scoffed. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen you flirt with every single one of your employees for years?—”
“Excuse me? I am not a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. I’m not Adrian.”
“You know you’re a flirt, Henny. A respectful one, but a flirt.” I nudged him. “So what was that?”
He shook his head. And for the briefest second, the humor drained from his face. Something tight flashed there, something I almost didn’t catch before his usual easy smile slipped back into place. “He’s just really not my type.”
I stared at him, baffled, but he tugged on my arm again, ending the conversation. I glanced back at the de la Vega cousins—just in time to catch Mateo’s gaze still fixed firmly on Henry’s back, soft and intent.
Later that night, curiosity won.
I looked Luca up first. It felt safer somehow, like I was skirting the edge instead of stepping straight into the fire. The images loaded quickly. Event photos. Magazine shots. A few runway-adjacent appearances that made it painfully obvious he moved in circles far removed from mine.
