Page 58 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
I’d read through every word anyway, even as a sharp ache settled behind my ribs. Scrolling through page after page. But it was all praise.
Nothing like what they said about me when our relationship had gone public five years ago. Back then, I was picked apart from the very first image. I think the nicest thing I ever read was from a small-time blogger who called me a “decent-looking woman”. That was it.
Nothing more.
And often much, much less.
“I mean, look at him,” Valerie said, zooming in on Luca’s face. “He’s not even trying to smile.”
He wore a perfectly tailored navy blue three-piece suit. His arm was draped around Elena’s waist as she stood beside him in what could only be described as Cinderella’s ball gown—strapless, shimmering, fairytale worthy.
And even though the sight of that photo made something in my stomach twist, I couldn’t deny it: she looked good.
“Luca’s never been one to smile. Or show any emotion at all, really,” I said, glancing briefly at the screen Valerie held up to me. “It’s like he was born missing the gene for human feelings.”
I recalled the rare moments he smiled at me. Like the other day, when he was fixing my kitchen sink. He didn’t do it often, but when he did…it was something beautiful.
“Even so. It’s a wedding, for crying out loud. You’d expect at least a flicker of excitement. A sparkle. Something.” Valerie turned the phone back to her and fixed me with a look. “Tell me honestly—do you get the vibe that he doesn’t want to get married?”
I shrugged, brushing mascara onto my lashes. “How am I supposed to know?”
“You work with him,” she pressed. “You’ve seen them together—him and his bride. Is he all lovey-dovey when she walks in? Does he open doors for her? Hold her bag? Laugh at her jokes?”
No. No. Definitely not. And no.
“He’s not exactly enthusiastic about the wedding planning, I’ll tell you that. He just sits through meetings like he’s serving a sentence. Doesn’t contribute a thing.”
“Hmmm.” Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “Weird.”
I applied a final coat of red lipstick and turned to Valerie.
“Look, it doesn’t matter whether he’s happy or not. Enthusiastic or not. Bottom line—he’s getting married in three weeks.”
Valerie’s expression softened, sympathy creeping into her eyes.
I cut it off with a noncommittal smile, grabbing my bag and shoving my laptop inside. I’d heard enough of her reminding me how difficult it must be to plan the wedding of my Fated Mate to someone else.
“Don’t forget Ollie’s meds at noon,” I said, standing. He’d come down with the flu. Nothing serious. But I wasn’t about to take any chances with his health. “My meeting with Elena should wrap up around twelve, then I’m meeting…a friend for lunch.”
Valerie’s eyebrows shot up. She immediately honed in on my vague tone like a wolf on a scent.
“Which friend? I know all your friends. In fact, I am your only friend.”
I sighed. I knew she was going to make a big deal out of this, but I told her anyway.
“Victor Vaughn. He reached out earlier this week. Asked to catch up over lunch.”
Valerie’s eyes went wide. She practically bounced onto my bed, grinning like I’d just given her front row tickets to gossip heaven.
“Oh my God. Are you pivoting to his younger brother now? That’s revenge served sizzling.”
“Older,” I corrected flatly. “And no. I’m not trying to get revenge or whatever twisted fantasy you’re building in that head of yours.”
I cringed at the thought of getting involved with Victor just to spite Luca.
“Victor and I are friends. That’s all. No more. No less.”
“Well,” Valerie said, flopping dramatically onto her back, “if you change your mind…”
