The shadow at the café had been nothing. Just a woman, unremarkable, wandering into the quiet space without any awareness of the storm she had almost caused. Relief and irritation collided in Aria's chest. She exhaled slowly, pushing away the last remnants of tension.
She shot a brief glance at Luca Moretti, whose dark eyes had followed the figure, and realized she was still burning with anger. Every polite smile, every word he had spoken, every step he had taken beside her—it all reminded her that he was the enemy, that he could destroy her family without a second thought. She tightened her jaw and stood.
"I should go," she said sharply, leaving no room for discussion.
Luca made no move to stop her. He knew better than to argue with the daughter of the Bellamys when her temper flared. He let her leave, forcing himself to watch her go, feeling a pull in his chest he couldn't name.
They departed separately, retreating to the sanctuary of their own homes, each wrestling with the events of the evening. Night fell, and both lay awake, tracing the contours of the other's presence in their minds. Aria thought about the man who haunted her dreams yet could never be trusted. Luca thought about the girl who had stirred something dangerous within him, making him question his loyalty, his family, and himself.
By morning, the city had moved on, but their minds had not. Aria went downstairs to breakfast, her parents already discussing the upcoming annual ball for billionaire heirs.
"This year's event will be critical," her father said. "It is where alliances are noticed, potential partners observed, and the future of our family quietly examined."
Her mother added, "You will need a companion, someone you trust to stand beside you, someone who will navigate this room with tact and discretion."
Aria's thoughts went immediately to James, her childhood friend. Reliable, calm, trustworthy—he would be the perfect partner to attend this night of elegance and scrutiny.
The day was consumed with preparation. Dresses were chosen with meticulous care, hair appointments scheduled, and accessories selected to project sophistication and grace. Every detail mattered. Every step of the process reinforced the Bellamy legacy and the image they needed to present.
Across the city, Luca Moretti prepared in his own way. He had been expected to attend alone, but he surprised even himself by inviting the one girl who had relentlessly pursued him for months. She was eager, flashy, and completely enamored by him, but tonight, her presence would serve a purpose—keeping attention off the girl he truly could not stop thinking about.
Even as the evening approached, the tension between the families, the anticipation of the ball, and the unspoken pull between Aria and Luca threaded its way through every thought.
The grand doors of the ballroom opened. Guests began to stream in, gliding across polished floors, sparkling under glittering chandeliers. Aria, in deep sapphire, arrived at the hall with James by her side, composed and careful, yet her mind remained tangled with yesterday's tension.
Luca entered moments later, the obsessed girl at his side, radiating excitement and admiration for him. Every eye turned as he stepped into the room, but his thoughts were elsewhere, stubbornly lingering on the one person he had no right to want.
The music swelled, the air shimmered with elegance, and both Aria and Luca paused at the entrance, their separate entrances perfectly poised. Neither had seen the other yet, but the energy of the night promised that everything about this ball would change before the evening ended.
The ball had begun.