Page 25 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
“It’s nice to have you join us, Mr. Vaughn,” I said, forcing a tight smile as I extended my hand.
He barely touched it before I snatched it back.
Unashamedly, Luca’s lazy gaze dragged over me—from my face, down my cleavage peeking out from my camisole. His eyes lingered on my chest for a second too long before moving lower.
I swore his pupils dilated when they landed on my pencil skirt. And that very action…it set my entire nerves alight.
Instant regret washed over me. Why did I wear this outfit?
“You’re just in time,” Elena squeaked, practically vibrating with joy at his presence. “Leila was just about to show me the venues she located for the wedding.”
“Yes,” I said, sliding back into my seat with what dignity I had left. “Now you both can come to a decision together.”
I avoided Luca’s gaze as he settled into the seat beside Elena.
If I didn’t know better, I would’ve called him a mute.
But I did know better. Luca didn’t speak much—he let his eyes, those devilish steel-gray eyes, do all the talking.
And right now, they were saying, “I dare you to react, Leila.”
But no.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his presence alone got under my skin.
I turned my laptop toward them and hit play on the slideshow.
Ten minutes later, it ended.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence that followed afterward. “All the venues are capable of hosting at least a thousand guests—”
“A thousand?” Elena cut in, her voice sharp and dripping with scorn.
“Who said anything about a thousand guests? My guest list includes the Alpha King and his envoy. All eight Alphas from the New York packs. Their envoys. Notable and worthy Betas of select houses. The State Governor. Alphas from across Europe. VVIPs from America. I’m expecting no less than three thousand guests.”
This time, I couldn’t control my reaction.
To hell with polite smiles and professionalism.
My eyes flew wide.
Three thousand guests?
That was more than three times the population of Vatican City.
A quiet chuckle drifted across the table, and my gaze snapped to Luca.
What, exactly, was so funny?
Elena flipped her hair and leveled her gaze at me, voice dripping with condescension. “Look, Leila, I know this is all new territory to you. You’re not used to events of this opulence and extravagance. I’ve got Ellen’s Events and Planning on standby to take over if you’re not…capable. We’ll just release a statement to the press that—” she waved a manicured hand, “you know, you’re unfit to plan my wedding.”
Fantastic.
“I mean, your portfolio is slightly impressive and all,” she continued, “but I’m starting to wonder—can you really handle an event of this magnitude?”
Physically, I sat there—cool as ice. Internally? My jaw was on the floor.
How did we even get here?
