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Luca’s brows furrowed, the lightheartedness in his gaze quickly replaced with confusion and a touch of hurt. “It’s your birthday gift. Why not?”
His frown made her smile, despite herself. There was something endearingly stubborn about Luca—like a child pouting when things didn’t go his way. She chuckled, shaking her head.
Her laugh was soft but teasing. "No, Luca. I mean, gift me something reasonable—not something you won in the most expensive auction of the year. I can’t take it."
“You have to take it,” he insisted. “Or I’ll assume you don’t like me. That would be very tragic for my ego.”
She shot him a playful glare. "You're blackmailing me now?"
“How can I not like you?” she murmured, her playful tone fading. Her eyes held a soft, aching sincerity now. “Don’t do this, please.”
But Luca only grinned at her, his fingers gently pushing the box back to her again. “I don’t care,” he said, his voice softer than before. “It’s a gift. Don’t refuse it. When it’s my birthday, I’ll accept whatever you give me without question. I’m a good boy like that.”
Anya couldn’t help but snicker.
She sighed, then reluctantly picked up the ring, holding the box against her chest. “Thank you so much. I love my gift a lot.”
Luca grinned at her, satisfied.
She held the ring in her hand, admiring the pretty little thing.
Luca watched her quietly, then said after a moment, trying to sound casual, “How’s it going with Dante?”
Just then, the waiter arrived with two steaming cups of coffee, placing them gently on the table. “Thanks,” Luca muttered without looking up, his gaze fixed on Anya.
Anya’s eyes flickered to him, a hint of nervousness behind her smile. "He proposed to me last night." Her voice lit up, and the bright smile that followed made Luca’s heart tighten painfully.
His heart clenched. That was the smile he’d always wanted for himself. But it didn’t belong to him.
‘I wish it was me you loved, Anya,’ he thought, but the words remained stuck behind the walls of restraint he’d built for her sake. He felt the sting of jealousy twist through him, but he buried it deep, forcing a smile.
"Are you sure he’s going to marry you?" Luca asked, his tone careful but laced with concern. "You haven’t even revealed to him yet that you are Annie. You’ve only known each other for a few months. Maybe you should take some time and not rush into it."
Anya’s fingers wrapped around the coffee cup, her eyes meeting his without hesitation. “He loves me, and that’s all that matters,” she said with conviction, as if that alone could shield her from every possible storm.
Luca nodded slowly, though his lips curved into a bittersweet smile. "Alright then. But after your marriage, are you going to hand over your family business to him to manage?"
"Of course not," she replied, a frown forming on her face. "It’s mine. My dad wants me to take care of it, so I will. I won’t give it to him. But I also know that Dante isn’t that type of person. He doesn’t want any of it."
Luca took a slow breath, trying to mask the hurt he felt.
“If that’s what you believe,” Luca said gently, reaching across the table to brush her hair away from her face. His hand lingered, fingers resting lightly on her head, protective and affectionate. “I just want you to live a happy life, Anya. You’ve already endured too much. From now on, the only thing you should worry about is which shoes to match with your bag.”
Anya giggled, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I’m sure I will. With Dad, you, and Uncle Danny always watching over me, what could go wrong? I’ll just call you, and you'll show up like a knight in shining armor, won’t you?”
Luca raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Do you even need to ask?"
Anya grinned brightly, and for a second, the warmth between them felt like something that belonged in another lifetime.
But just outside the restaurant space, hidden behind a row of large potted plants and designer mannequins, Zara paused in her tracks. Her arms were loaded with glossy shopping bags, but they nearly slipped from her grasp when she caught sight of the scene.
Her gaze zeroed in on Luca’s hand resting so delicately on Anya’s head, the way his fingers moved tenderly, almost like a lover’s touch. The way Anya was smiling, relaxed and radiant, made her chest tighten with rage.
"Is this bitch two-timing?" she muttered under her breath. "Who is that guy?"
Zara started digging her phone out of her purse. She raised it quickly, the camera clicking softly as she snapped several photos of them from behind the plants, her jealousy flaring as she looked at the couple, her heart burning with resentment.
“What a bitch,” she muttered under her breath. “Seducing Dante wasn’t enough? Now she’s got another man fawning over her like a puppy?”