Page 40 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
I took a breath. A small, shaky one.
“So, I’d appreciate it if you could focus on the reason we’re here. You’re my client. I’m here to meet your needs for this wedding. Nothing more.”
Luca’s eyes locked onto mine in a full-on stare down, the kind that dared me to flinch, to take it all back. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t.
I wasn’t sure what game he was playing by dragging me back here, to this booth. But whatever it was, I wanted no part of it. In four weeks, his wedding would be over. He’d be married. And I’d be free.
“You really feel nothing, do you?” Luca broke the silence.
I blinked. “What am I supposed to feel?”
His jaw flexed. “Guilt? Remorse?”
I laughed, the sound quiet and bitter. “For what—existing in the same room as you?”
He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowed to slits. “For what you did, Leila.”
The accusation cut through me like a blade. I hated that it still landed. Hated that some part of me still cared that he didn’t believe me—didn’t trust me.
I sat up straighter, meeting his gaze. “You really think I’m the villain in this story.”
“You made yourself the villain,” he said coldly. “I just believed what was right in front of me, what I’d been too blind to see for months.”
His words hung there between us—sharp, deliberate, unforgiving. The air was heavy with it, both of us locked in a silent standoff.
The moment was broken by the shrill ring of his phone. I seized the excuse like a lifeline.
“I’ll be right back,” I muttered, already on my feet.
I could feel his stare burning between my shoulder blades as I walked away.
Only when I locked myself in the bathroom did I let myself breathe.
God, this was harder than I thought it’d be. Being here, in this place…it stirred up emotions I thought I’d buried in concrete.
What was this? Some twisted power play? Was he trying to torment me? Watch me squirm under the weight of everything he’d done? Was that why he chose this booth? This café? Did he hate me that much?
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I wiped it away fast, like it burned me.
Crying? Seriously, Leila? No. Not for him. Not again.
Getting over Luca had nearly destroyed me. During the eight months I carried Ollie, I’d slept with tears and woken to nausea—both kinds. I’d lost weight. Lost myself. Nearly lost the baby when I collapsed at eight months and was rushed into the ER. That night, in the cold, sterile quiet of the NICU, holding my premature son’s hand through plastic, I made a vow.
Never again.
Luca Vaughn had broken me once. Nearly killed us both. He would not get that chance again.
I stared into the mirror until my spine straightened. My resolve hardened like cement. I splashed cold water on my face and turned to leave.
And crashed right into a man I never expected to see—someonefrom my past. Of course. I should’ve known. You can only hold your breath in Manhattan for so long before bumping into someone from your past. Still, it could’ve been worse. At least Victor had always been kind when we worked together.
Then again…that was five years ago. Before everything blew up.
“Leila,” he said, not sounding the least bit surprised. Maybe Luca had told him we were here.
I offered a polite smile. “It’s been a while, Victor.”
To my shock, he pulled me into a hug. Not a stiff, one-armed, how have you been hug. A real one. Long. Too long.
