Page 102 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
“Are you sleeping with him?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
His voice was calm, yet deadly. “Victor. Are you sleeping with him?”
My stomach dipped. “That’s none of your business, Luca.”
“It is when you’re working on a joint project that requires both of us to be focused.”
I stared at him. “So now you’re saying I’m unprofessional?”
He leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine. “You didn’t answer my question, Leila. Are you sleeping with him?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant—to you or this project.”
His jaw clenched, his whole body coiled at the vagueness of my answer, like the thought of me and Victor together snapped something loose in him.
“Cancel it,” he growled. “Whatever dinner plans you have, cancel them. We leave for Brooklyn Saturday night.”
I scoffed. “You said we were leaving Sunday morning.”
He gave a slow, biting shake of his head. “So that’s why you thought it was okay to line up a date with my brother?”
“I didn’t—”
“Well, plans have changed,” he bit out. “We leave Saturday evening. And you better be ready.”
The weekend came up fast.On one hand, I was itching to pitch this idea. It felt like my best work yet. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being in the design space until I was neck deep in it again. There was a thrill in it, a spark I hadn’t felt in years. My father’s letter echoed in my mind. Go back to what you love. And I did love it. Event planning had always been survival—something I was good at, but not something that lit me up inside.
And then there was Luca.
I didn’t know how to feel about not working closely with him anymore. Truthfully, I’d enjoyed it more than I cared to admit. We had built something together again. He was still bossy, but this time, he let me lead. Said it was my element, and he was just a spectator in the backseat.
I was going to miss it. Miss him.
I paid the cab driver and stepped out, rounding the booth to grab the single bag I’d packed. The wind tugged strands of my hair into my face as I looked up at the five-star resort hosting the Grand Summit. It was all glass and glamor—designed to impress.
As I took in the surroundings, my gaze snagged on Luca.
He stood leaning against his Aston Martin, arms folded, glowering at me.
“You’re late, Leila,” he said as I stopped in front of him.
“Yeah, well, I had to commute on three buses just to get to Brooklyn.”
“If you’d just put your pride and stubbornness aside and ridden with me, you wouldn’t have had to go through that hell.”
“I wasn’t complaining, Luca,” I snapped. “In fact, I love commuting. At least I get to meet new people every day.”
“You’re not a people person.”
I lifted my chin. “You don’t know me.”
“I do.” His voice was firm, certain.
I glared at him and turned on my heel toward the reception without another word. Behind me, I heard him sigh before following.
“Good evening,” I greeted when I reached the reception.
