Page 90 of Steel Beauty

Jack raises his glass, smirking as his gaze locks with hers. “Anamazingnight, if I remember correctly.”

The look they share feels layered, their words hinting at a story too personal, too deeply theirs to invite questions. It’s not about the opera; it’s about a moment in their history, one clearly meaningful enough to hold significance without further explanation. Whatever the story is, it belongs to them, and I decide not to press.

Jack chuckles, turning back to us. “It wasn’t long after that night when all the secrets came out. Once everything was in the open, our relationship changed. For the better.”

Laurelyn nods, her eyes lighting up with the glow of a cherished memory. “That’s when it went from fun to incredible. No more hiding in the shadows.”

Jack tilts his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Not that the shadows were so bad. I did enjoy having you all to myself.”

“True. But we had so much more freedom once we went public. And while the aliases were fun, things shifted once we knew each other’s real names. Everything changed.”

After a pause, she waves a hand, her expression softening, as if brushing away the nostalgia. “But enough about us.”

We finish dinner, and as I reach for a plate to help clear the table, Jack waves me off with a grin. “Don’t even think about it. The emperor and I have this covered. You ladies go relax. We’ll be there in a few.”

I glance at JC, who gives me an easy smile. “This won’t take long.”

“Fine, I’m not going to argue,” I say with a laugh, letting Laurelyn lead the way into the living room.

My attention is immediately drawn to the beautiful piano tucked into one corner. Its sleek black surface gleams under the soft lighting, exuding elegance. I wander over, lightly running my fingers along its polished edge. “This is stunning.”

She notices my interest and smiles. “Do you play?”

“Oh God, no. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Laurelyn settles onto the bench and lets her fingers brush gently over the keys. “I wasn’t sure.” She plays a few soft notes, “Julius Caesar mentioned you love music.”

I smile, watching the way her elegant long fingers move gracefully. “I do, but I didn’t grow up in the kind of family where music lessons were even a possibility. Let’s just say my lessons were a little more practical—and a lot less fun.”

She nods, her expression softening. “I understand that more than you can imagine. People assume I had this picture-perfect upbringing, but it wasn’t like that. There were struggles—maybe not the same ones you had but struggles all the same. Honestly, I didn’t know happiness until I met Jack Henry.”

A chill runs through me, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “That gives me goose bumps.”

She glances up, her eyes holding a knowing look. “Is that because you feel the same way about Julius Caesar?”

I glance toward the kitchen, making sure the guys are still occupied. “Maybe something like that.”

Laurelyn smiles, her eyes warm with understanding. “I know you didn’t come all the way here expecting to find a relationship on the other side of the world, but sometimes fate has other plans. And we don’t always get a say in it.”

Her words stir something deep inside me. I want to respond, but the truth feels too big to put into words right now. Instead, I offer a small smile, hoping it’s enough to convey that I understand exactly what she means.

Laurelyn seems to sense my hesitation and shifts gears with a warm smile. “What’s your favorite music?”

I relax as I lean against the piano. “Oh, definitely ’70s and ’80s. Occasionally, some ’60s. Some ’90s. “I’m a little all over the place.”

Her fingers glide over the keys, and within moments, the soft, familiar opening notes of “The Rose” fill the room. My eyes light up, and Laurelyn notices, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Know this one, do you?”

I nod, smiling. “Of course. It’s only one of the greatest songs ever written.”

“I agree. Come on, sing it with me.”

I laugh, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no. I could never sing with you.”

She waves a hand, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Nonsense. In this house, singing isn’t reserved for professionals. Everyone sings.”

Her playful insistence draws another laugh from me, and for a moment, I let the idea settle. Maybe—just maybe—I could give it a try. But for now, I simply listen, the music wrapping around me like an familiar old friend.

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