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23
LUCIA
T onight was the night of my first red carpet event. As promised, we were in high gear trying to fix my shitty past coming up and messing with Alexander’s entire future. I had been sitting in anxiety all morning. Even a calm day out with Nicola and Gianna exploring the city only distracted me for so long. The dress Anna had sent hung from the door frame like a silent challenge. Sleek, emerald green, with a neckline that plunged just enough to make me blush. The fabric shimmered faintly in the light, clinging to every curve and promising a kind of boldness I wasn’t sure I could pull off.
Nicola sprawled across the armchair in the corner of my room, tossing grapes into the air and catching them with a precision that was both infuriating and impressive. “You, my dear, are looking drop-dead gorgeous,” she declared, barely looking up from her phone.
I huffed, smoothing my hands down the dress again. “I feel like I look silly.”
Nicola rolled her eyes dramatically. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got the curves, the confidence—you’re gonna knock them dead. Alexander won’t know what hit him.”
I turned to her with a mock glare. “I’m not doing this for Alexander . This is about the PR disaster.”
“Uh-huh. Sure it is.” She waggled her brows, a teasing grin spreading across her face.
I tossed a pillow in her direction, and she dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “I’m serious, Nicola. This is just damage control.”
“And if damage control happens to involve you looking like a goddess and making Alexander Wright drool a little, that’s just a bonus.”
I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips, even as I turned back to the mirror. Nicola had been a godsend over the past few weeks—always ready with a joke, a sassy comeback, or a much-needed reality check. She’d swooped in like a whirlwind of energy, and unsurprisingly my daughter adorned her as much as I did.
“Okay,” Nicola said, standing and dramatically dusting invisible lint from her jeans. “Let’s get you zipped up and looking like a million bucks. Gia and I will be rooting for you from here.”
“You’re not going to make this a bigger deal than it already is, right?” I asked, stepping into the dress carefully.
“Absolutely not,” she said solemnly, then winked. “I mean, I’ll probably teach Gia how to cheer every time your face comes on TV, but that’s it. Totally low-key.”
I rolled my eyes, but a laugh slipped out. “Thanks, Nic. For everything.”
“Always, babe,” she said, giving me a firm pat on the shoulder. “Now get out there! The world isn’t ready for you tonight.”
After one last look in the mirror—where I barely recognized myself—I grabbed my clutch, kissed Gia’s forehead, and headed out. Nicola gave me a loud wolf whistle as I left, and I shook my head, trying not to laugh.
The elevator ride down felt endless, my heart pounding with every floor. By the time I reached the lobby, the nerves had settled into a steady hum. I stepped outside, and there he was.
Alexander leaned casually against the sleek black car, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes met mine. His suit was tailored to perfection, the black-on-black ensemble making him look impossibly sharp. But it wasn’t his suit that stole my breath. It was the way his expression shifted the moment he saw me.
For a second, I thought he might have forgotten to breathe. His jaw tightened, his lips parting slightly as his gaze swept over me—slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing every inch.
“You…” he started, then stopped, swallowing hard before trying again. “You look incredible.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I ducked my head, wishing I could play it cool. “Thanks,” I said softly, clutching my bag tighter.
When I looked up again, he was still staring, his eyes dark and filled with something I couldn’t quite name. Admiration? Desire? Whatever it was, it made my pulse quicken.
“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.
I nodded, stepping closer. “Are you?”
His lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and he opened the car door for me. “With you? Always.”
The car glided to a stop, and the world outside exploded into a dazzling chaos of lights, cameras, and the buzz of a crowd I wasn’t prepared for. I’d seen red carpet events on TV before, sure. They always seemed so glamorous, so polished. But sitting here now, staring out at the flashing lights and the sea of people shouting names, I felt like an impostor in my borrowed dress and heels that pinched just a little too much.
Alexander leaned over, his hand brushing mine. “Ready?” His voice was low, steady, the kind of voice that made you believe you could walk into a lion’s den unscathed.
I forced a smile, pushing my nerves deep down, and nodded in response. When the door opened, the noise surged. Alexander stepped out first, effortlessly commanding attention like he was born to live in this world of spectacle. Then he turned, his hand extended toward me. For a split second, I hesitated. This wasn’t my world. This wasn’t my life. But the way he looked at me, his eyes warm and unwavering, made me forget all that.
I placed my hand in his, and the moment I stepped out, the crowd erupted. Cameras snapped, flashes went off in every direction, and the shouts—my name mixed with his—felt like a surreal kind of dream.
“Lucia! Alexander! Over here!”
“Lucia, give us a smile!”
I felt his hand on the small of my back, grounding me as we began walking down the carpet. It stayed there, warm and steadying, as we walked. The red beneath my heels seemed endless, like we were walking toward some magical, glittering horizon. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and my breath caught when I spotted the enormous movie poster at the entrance. This wasn’t just a premiere—it was the premiere. The kind people talked about for weeks afterward.
“Relax,” Alexander whispered, his voice brushing against my ear like velvet. “You’re doing great.”
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak as we stopped in front of the step-and-repeat. Cameras flanked every inch of the space, the flashes relentless as we posed. His hand stayed firm on my back, a subtle anchor that kept me from floating away in the sheer absurdity of the moment.
“Smile,” he murmured, his lips curving into one of his devastating grins. So, I did. I smiled, and the cameras seemed to go wild, the crowd’s shouting crescendoing like an orchestra hitting its peak.
And then, as if on cue, Anna appeared like a hurricane in heels. “This way,” she said briskly, ushering us toward a woman with a microphone and a camera crew stationed a few steps away.
The interviewer greeted us warmly, her smile genuine as she gestured for us to join her. “Alexander Wright and Lucia DeLuca,” she said into the microphone, her tone like honey. “You two are absolutely stealing the show tonight.”
Alexander chuckled, his hand slipping from my back to take my hand instead, his fingers lacing with mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. “That’s all Lucia,” he said smoothly, his grin widening. “I’m just lucky to be here with her.”
My cheeks burned, but I managed to nod politely, pretending this was no big deal even as my heart cartwheeled.
The interviewer turned to me. “Lucia, this is your first public appearance at an event like this, isn’t it? How does it feel?”
How did it feel? Like I’d stumbled into a movie and couldn’t find my way out. I swallowed hard, gripping Alexander’s hand for dear life. “It’s…surreal,” I said honestly, hoping my voice didn’t betray how overwhelmed I felt.
“She’s a natural,” Alexander said, his voice warm with pride. His gaze hit mine and I swear I felt myself melting under it.
I blinked up at him, caught completely off guard by the sincerity in his voice. He didn’t even seem to realize what he was doing to me, how those words were slipping through the cracks in the armor I’d so carefully built.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Alexander was just playing his part, saying all the right things to keep the illusion intact.
But then he looked at me, really looked at me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, some of it was real.
I was in trouble. Falling for my fake boyfriend was never part of the plan, but here I was, heart racing, wishing I could freeze this moment and live in it forever.
* * *
Alexander and I had spent the week attending fashion shows, strolling through staged public dates, and participating in carefully orchestrated PR stunts. But it wasn’t the glamorous events that stuck in my mind. It was the quiet, unguarded moments in between that I found myself replaying late at night. The pastry bag left on my nightstand with Alexander’s familiar scroll on it, sugar for the sugar monster it had read. Enough for myself and Gianna. He became rather fond of leaving notes everywhere, hiding them for me to find later. Little paper cranes he would make with hotel stationery for Gianna littered the rooms, making me smile every time I saw them.
It was a Tuesday morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table, texting Anna and trying—yet again—to convince her to let me speak to Belen’s management directly about the PR strategy. Predictably, she shot me down.
That’s when Alexander arrived, an actual wicker picnic basket in one hand and his signature smile on his face.
“Fancy a getaway?” he asked, leaning casually against the door frame. “No cameras, no fake smiles. Just us. Plus,” he added with a lopsided grin, “I miss spending time with G.”
My heart did a little flip.
“She’s very jealous of all our time together lately,” I managed, trying to sound casual.
That made him laugh—the real laugh, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look devastatingly approachable.
Thump thump.
“Where’s my girl at?” he asked, glancing past me into the room.
Thump thump.
My girl.
Somebody sedate me.
“Alex!” Gia’s tiny, excited voice rang out from the living room, and suddenly she was bounding toward him, abandoning her princess movie without a second thought. She launched herself into his waiting arms, and he caught her easily, lifting her up like she weighed nothing. She clung to him like a little koala.
“I missed you!” she declared, her tiny brows furrowed in mock indignation. “Mama’s been stealing you.”
Alexander nodded solemnly, playing along. “I know. It’s so unfair.”
“She’s right here, you know,” I said, crossing my arms, but my grin betrayed me.
Gianna placed a hand on her hip, her tone exasperated. “Mama always wants Alex time.”
I snorted, recognizing Nicola’s sass in my toddler. Alexander, on the other hand, looked thoroughly delighted.
“I was thinking,” he said, shifting Gia so she perched more comfortably on his hip, “how about a picnic? Maybe near a park?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Gia chanted, squirming in his arms. “Mama! Park!”
I gave in immediately, not that there was any other choice. “Okay, baby. Let’s go to the park.”
Alexander smiled at me, soft and warm, like I’d given him more than just an afternoon plan. I let my eyes linger for a moment, taking in the rare sight of him dressed casually—a short-sleeve knit button-up that showed off the tattoos curling over his ebony skin, from the rose on his hands and up to the delicate wings on his neck.
I was not going to survive this day.
By the time we reached the top of the hill at the park, the sun was shining, and Gia was perched on Alexander’s shoulders, giggling endlessly. She was pointing out trees and rating them based on their “prettiest colors.” Alexander played along enthusiastically, giving each tree a dramatic flourish as if it were the most extraordinary sight in the world.
Meanwhile, I lagged behind, cursing my decision to wear heeled ankle boots on what turned out to be a grassy incline. But honestly, I couldn’t even be mad. Alexander kept slowing down, waiting for me. My view? Alexander and Gia, laughing together in the sunlight, like they’d been doing this forever.
Alexander waved his free hand dramatically, apparently narrating something to Gia that sent her into peals of laughter. Whatever it was, I couldn’t hear it from my spot a few paces back, but it didn’t matter. Watching them was enough.
It hit me then, with a force that left me breathless.
This wasn’t fake. This wasn’t a PR stunt or an arrangement or a temporary illusion.
This was my daughter, my life, and this man who somehow made everything feel like it could be real.
I was in so much trouble.
The picnic blanket was spread out under a sprawling oak tree, the kind Gianna had deemed a “queen tree” on our walk up the hill. Alexander knelt by the basket, pulling out neatly packed sandwiches, fruit, and—of course—a bottle of sparkling water because, apparently, he couldn’t even pretend to be low maintenance.
“Did you pack a three-course meal in there?” I teased, plopping down onto the blanket.
“I was going for four courses, but Anna stole my dessert,” he quipped, flashing me a grin as he handed me a plate.
Gianna, having grown bored of sitting still, had already dashed off to the playground, her laughter ringing out as she climbed up the tiny rock wall attached to the play structure, her stuffed bunny in tow.
Alexander followed my gaze, his smile softening as he watched her. “She’s fearless,” he murmured.
“I don’t know where she gets that, I wish I was that free,” I said absently, then immediately regretted it. I glanced at Alexander, worried I’d soured the moment, but he didn’t flinch.
Instead, he leaned back on one arm and let out a noncommittal “Hmm,” his relaxed posture entirely too charming. “And the sass?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Me, but also Nicola has been quite the influence,” I admitted easily with a laugh.
“She’s perfect, just like her mum.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks, and I busied myself with my sandwich, trying to ignore the way my heart had started its now-familiar fluttering. “You’re laying it on thick today, Wright.”
“Just being honest,” he said, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.
We ate in companionable silence for a while, the kind that felt easy and warm, punctuated only by the sound of Gia’s laughter. I caught her out of the corner of my eye, spinning herself dizzy on a tire swing.
“I missed this,” Alexander said suddenly, his voice low enough that I almost didn’t hear him.
I looked over at him, confused. “Missed what?”
“This.” He gestured vaguely, his hand sweeping over the scene in front of us. “Spending time together just because we want to. No cameras, no headlines, no Anna breathing down our necks.” He paused, his gaze fixed on Gia as she waved enthusiastically at us from the monkey bars. “I want more days like this.”
My stomach flipped, but I tried to play it cool. “You mean getting tackled by an almost three-year-old and carrying half her weight up a hill?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean this. Being with you. With her. Not because we’re trying to sell some story, but just because…it feels right.”
My throat tightened, and I took a sip of the sparkling water to give myself a moment to think. “It’s not exactly part of the plan,” I said lightly, though my voice came out quieter than I intended.
“Screw the plan,” he said, and when I turned to look at him, his expression was entirely serious. “The plan is just something Anna cooked up to keep everyone happy. But this? This is what makes me happy.”
I stared at him, completely disarmed. My brain scrambled to come up with something clever to say, but all I could think about was the way his eyes softened when he talked about Gia, the way he laughed when she teased him, and the way he looked at me now.
“Alex!” Gia’s voice broke through the moment, and we both turned to see her standing triumphantly at the top of the slide. “Watch me!”
He grinned, standing up and cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’m watching, superstar!”
She slid down with a squeal, her arms in the air like she’d just conquered Mount Everest.
“She’s the best part of my life,” I said softly, surprising myself with the admission.
“I know,” he replied, sitting back down beside me. “You’re allowed to let someone else in too.”
I glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice making my chest ache. Sometimes it was like he could see right through me, right down to my soul. Just casually bringing up my biggest issue. It was so hard to let others in fully. To lean on anyone. Somewhere down the line, after being let down too many times by too many people, I stopped. Why rely on others when I had myself.
“You know,” Alexander said softly, “I see you.” It was only three words. A simple sentence, really, but I knew what he meant—we were similar in that way; our walls were different, but we both relied on ourselves, focused on that, didn’t want help or expect it.
“It’s kind of annoying.” I shook my head and let the silence settle as we watched my daughter playing and showing off tricks.
“Well, if you keep looking, you’ll notice that I’m okay on my own.”
“Of course you are,” he replied easily. “But you don’t have to be on your own all the time. There’s a whole village of people who love you.”
“Oh yeah?” I teased, trying to keep it casual, but he doubled down instead.
“I do the same, you know.” He sighed.
“I know,” I replied gently, turning to him. He looked angelic, the sunlight casting through the trees on his skin. The winged tattoo on his neck was on display.
“When did you get this one?” I asked, nodding at his neck. His hand went to it immediately.
“Sometime last year.”
“It reminds me of a poem I read the summer I found out I was pregnant,” I admitted. His eyes caught mine as I recalled part of the poem.
“‘These wings are mine; I built, I grew. No chains can hold, no sky deny. For I am the storm, the boundless sky,’” Alexander recited, looking to the clouds. My heart stopped.
“You read it?” I asked, shock flooding me. I had a book of poems with me that I carried around like a security blanket when I was pregnant. It was filled with these gorgeous poems all about starting new and being brave.
“You brought it with you everywhere,” he replied.
“Yeah, but I would have noticed if you were reading it!”
“It was a day by the lake, you and Matteo went swimming, your back was hurting, so you were floating. Remember that giant pink floatie your dad bought you? You were out there for an hour, sleeping under the sun, Matteo rigged a rope to it so you wouldn’t float too far.” He looked far away, as if recalling the day. “I read the whole thing.”
“You—” I gasped in shock, at a loss for words.
“I liked that one best.” He turned to me again with a soft smile. His brown eyes were so light today, like caramel and gold.
“Me too,” I whispered, breaking eye contact with him and blinking back the tears. We sat like that for a time, side by side, watching Gia play before she ran back to us. We snacked on the food and she curled up in my lap. Alexander rifled through the basket, pulling out a picture book.
“One more surprise,” he said to Gianna, who beamed in return.
“Is it a princess story?” she asked.
“You bet, your favorite one, if I am not mistaken.” He turned the book over to reveal the front. And there was Gianna’s favorite princess. A certain ice queen that every single toddler to ever exist was obsessed with. Though I couldn’t be mad about it. Sisterly love winning the day? A badass ice queen who doesn’t need a man? Yes please.
Alexander moved over and put a hand on my shoulder, gently tugging me back. Gia giggled as we leaned back and she snuggled in even closer. Alexander began reading and my daughter was transfixed.
I wished the day could go on forever. That every day could be like this.
Table of Contents
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- Page 9
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- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24 (Reading here)
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