Page 27 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
My only Friday plan involved cartoons, popcorn, and a four-year-old boy.
But I couldn’t say that.
“I, um—” I stammered, scrambling for a reason. Any reason. “I have an appointment.”
Luca raised a brow. “Can’t it be rescheduled?”
“It’s with a specialist,” I said, firmer this time. “It’s…kind of important. Took weeks to get.”
His smirk faltered, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Is it serious?”
I hesitated. Then nodded. “It’s fine.”
But I could see the concern etched between his brows. The shift in his body.
“It’s with a sleep specialist,” I added. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping. They think it might be stress-induced insomnia.”
He didn’t say anything else. I blew an internal sigh of relief. Dodged a bullet there.
Just then, my phone rang. And as I reached for the table to silence it, I saw the caller ID.
Blaze.
From frying pan to fire.
I froze. And Luca noticed. When I glanced up, his eyes were narrowed on me. I didn’t have Blaze’s money. Not even a quarter of it. And just like that, my mind spiraled back to the last time he had called on the day he’d threatened to come for my son.
My chest tightened. I shifted in my seat, all thoughts of wedding venues and oversized egos evaporating.
I muted the call and flipped the phone over like that alone could bury the problem.
At the same time, Elena’s phone rang.
“One moment,” she said. “It’s my publicist from London.” She stood up and swanned out of the gazebo, leaving me and Luca in a silence that felt way too loud.
The silence stretched on for a few minutes. And in all that time, I was shutting down my laptop, slipping it into my bag—doing anything except acknowledging the man sitting across from me.
Then came Luca’s voice. “Wedding planning, huh?”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t glance in his direction.
“You know, I looked at your portfolio last night. It’s quite impressive.”
Last night? Didn’t he have anything better to do? Like sleep?
Still, I said nothing, just kept packing my things.
Then he leaned forward and asked the one question that broke my calm.
“I don’t think wedding planning suits you, Leila. You’ve got way more potential than that.”
My gaze snapped up to him. “What right do you have to question my career choice, Luca?”
He had the audacity to smirk. He opened his mouth to respond, but my phone rang again.
I checked the caller ID. Still Blaze.
“Who’s Blaze?” Luca asked, his voice dangerously low, edged with something I might have mistaken for jealousy.
