Page 5

Three

C ALISTA

The sea behind Avra and Eli’s mini castle shimmered beneath the setting sun, each wave a stroke of gold and crimson crashing against the black rocks and sending salt spray into the air. In the distance, beyond the lighthouse, gulls called out.

On the ridge-high terrace, I pressed my palms against the cool stone bench with my legs folded beneath me.

I curled my fingers around a chilled glass of white wine, the condensation slick against my palm. My pulse hammered at the base of my throat every time a car door thudded in the driveway. Dominic Lucianos would arrive soon.

I forced myself to lift the glass, to trace the rim with my tongue, but the delicate essence of the earthy vintage left me unmoved.

All my thoughts centered around Leon. His half smile, the confident tilt of his chin, and how his hand had brushed mine continued to set my mind aflame.

Our meeting had exceeded every hope possible for an introduction.

A week had passed, and he remained front and center in my thoughts. It was ridiculous to react to anyone this way.

A hollow knot tightened in my chest at the thought of tonight’s dinner with Dominic. I had given Eli my word I would come, yet forcing myself to think about anything except Leon was turning out to be damn near impossible.

Eli and Avra’s villa crouched on a jagged promontory, stones rising from churning water.

From the terrace, I felt the ocean’s roar echo through my bones.

Salt mist drifted upward, coating my skin, and a breeze snagged at the ends of my hair.

Gulls cried overhead, their wings beating against the wind, but nothing in that wild landscape loosened the tension coiled beneath my ribs.

On paper, Dominic checked every box. He came from the powerful Lucianos syndicate family.

He was well-known and highly respected in the banking world and one of the heirs to the Caldwell Banking Conglomerate.

He already had an MBA, and Eli had pointed out that might be helpful and offer some common ground for us to talk about, since I was just about to begin pursuing a master’s myself.

Despite all that, the fact remained that he was seventeen years older than I. I had no doubt he was much more experienced, in every sense of the word. That alone left me with a bit of unease. He was from an entirely different generation than me, for fuck’s sake.

Outside of school, what would we even have to talk about?

Would he look down on me, I wondered? Would he think I was unsophisticated or naive? Would he be able to respect me as a woman? Would he respect my need for independence?

The last thing I would ever tolerate was someone talking down to me or disrespecting me. Would his age naturally create a skewed power dynamic between us? Would he dismiss me as green? Would he bristle at my stubborn streak?

I’d chosen him before doing the depth of research that I should have.

Late last night, curiosity dragged me back to the Caldwell website. Dominic’s portrait crossed the homepage: broad smile, dark suit, hands folded in front of a boardroom window. Beneath it, boilerplate phrases on “Visionary Leadership” and “Commitment to Innovation.”

But in a separate industry report, I found a footnote: Theo Caldwell, “the true architect of our growth,” was credited with drafting every major deal and steering daily strategy.

Dominic’s name appeared again at the bottom as a signer of the gala invitations and the speech deliverer.

A union built only on his profile felt hollow, more show than substance.

His brother ran the daily operations of their empire.

Dominic barely dabbled in banking himself.

He wasn’t running any part of the business.

All of this knowledge left me with the distinct impression that combining our families would not be much of a benefit to us, after all. In order to assist my family in any way, Dominic would still need to get his brother’s approval first.

The idea of that was extremely unappealing.

I’d proposed canceling the meeting, but my sisters had insisted it was rude to do so to Eli’s friend and that it was inappropriate not to meet with more than one possible candidate.

Avra and Laya knew the meeting with Leon had gone exceptionally well.

But they still thought I needed to weigh my options carefully, and they were right.

Maybe I was coming up with every excuse I could to delay this process.

Either way, the idea of meeting Dominic left me anxious and uneasy.

Now here I waited, ready for a refill of my wine with little hope of it dulling my senses to aid me in the patience I needed to plaster on my face for the evening.

He was seven minutes late, and with every passing second, I tightened my grip on the glass until the strain on my knuckles made them ache.

My thoughts wandered back to Leon. Outside of the fact that he was closer to my age, I felt calm around him almost immediately. The tension of that first conversation melted into easy banter within seconds, and his smile soothed some unexplainable ache in my chest.

He carried the air of danger most men in our world possessed, but this control around him made him seem more protective than menacing .

But what had unsettled me most was when he’d brushed a stray hair from his forehead and his eyes darkened for the briefest of seconds, my heart clenched, and warmth grew deep inside me.

To find an instant attraction with anyone, considering my past, was more than I had even dared to hope for.

Then, to add in the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach every time he flashed that dashing smile my way, it was as if I’d fallen down a rabbit hole.

Safety and comfort were something I truly never expected to feel from another man in my life, much less desire.

His presence didn’t set off alarms. Instead, a calm hollowness closed over the space inside me I’d thought empty forever. I’d patched myself together one quiet night at a time.

Trauma had hammered nails through my trust, but Leon’s proximity didn’t pinch or prod. It simply rested, as if he’d found an unguarded door and sat on the threshold, waiting.

Later, I conducted in-depth research into Leon’s background, searching through business journals and gossip about his dealings.

They all said the same things: he was ruthless and single-minded.

Articles praised his iron will and warned competitors to yield or disappear.

But personal pages remained blank. No social media feeds or threaded rumors, only a man who walked alone and was fiercely loyal to a handful of companions.

He obviously kept a low profile and liked his privacy, guarding it viciously. And I found myself respecting this stance.

“Cali?” Avra’s voice slipped through the daydream, and I blinked at her pale face in the hallway light.

“Hey,” I said, setting my wine down.

“Dominic’s here.” She gestured toward the open doors, where Dominic and Eli hovered in the foyer.

I straightened my shoulders. “Thanks, Avra. I’ll come in to greet him.”

She offered a slow grin. “Ready?”

I smoothed the front of my dress. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” My pulse fluttered against my ribs, reminding me I could choose where to place my trust.

Avra looped her arm through mine. “Enthusiasm everywhere.”

I admitted with a shrug. “The lunch is on my mind nonstop.”

“Maybe your heart’s giving you a signal.” Her lips quirked upward. “But hey, no pressure tonight. You step back whenever you want.”

I drew in a breath, comfort blooming in her words. “You and Laya have been on my side since forever. I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”

She squeezed my arm. “Always.”

We crossed the threshold into the foyer together, the muffled murmur of arrivals rising around us. I lifted my chin.

I had my own path to follow, even if it led straight back into Leon’s orbit .

As we got closer, Eli and Dominic turned to look at us, and I observed Dominic while maintaining a polite smile.

He stood under the crystal chandelier, shoulders squared like carved marble pillars.

His eyes gleamed bright blue against the shadow of the corridor, from a face beyond traditionally attractive, more on the side of overwhelming.

When he smiled, his lips curled back in welcome, except the warmth that spread across his features never reached his gaze, as if the motion was more practiced and for appearances.

He had an impressive physique, with broad shoulders that conveyed strength. His large biceps suggested he regularly lifted weights. He sported a meticulously tailored bespoke suit crafted from the finest black silk.

His hair lay slicked back, each strand locked into place, giving him a shine that felt more varnish than style. Something about that look sent a prickle along my spine.

Before I could take a deep breath, he swept one hand around mine and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Almost instantly, heat flushed over my skin, a tang of metal rose in the back of my throat, and it took all of my strength not to jerk my fingers free from his grip.

“Calista, it’s an honor to meet you.” His voice rolled out smooth and steady, the kind of voice that could hush a crowded room.

If his lips hadn’t lingered on my fingers so long, I might have mistaken his charm for genuine interest.

But those eyes, cold as winter lakes, kept me from believing a single word spilling from his lips .

I withdrew my hand as calmly as possible, jaw tightening as my pulse drummed an erratic beat.

My head spun with questions, chief among them being how I would survive this meeting.

His gaze drifted down my body at a pace meant to trace every inch of me: the cut of my dress, the line of my hips, the curve of my waist. Each second stretched out until I felt exposed and uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

Then he nodded once as though ticking a box on an inspection list, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.

The lascivious look on his face repulsed me to my bones.