Chapter 3 The dinner

Luca pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back shifting under his skin as he tossed it aside. The room was silent, but Maeve's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

She hadn't expected him to change in front of her.

His movements were unhurried, completely unaffected by her presence-as if she wasn't there at all.

Maeve swallowed, forcing herself to look away. She turned toward the bed, pulling back the covers as if the act of getting in would erase the image now burned into her mind.

The mattress dipped as Luca settled beside her. He lay on his back at first, one arm resting behind his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Maeve faced the other way, staring at the dimly lit wall, hyper-aware of the space between them.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

She wasn't sure what she had expected. Maybe some acknowledgment of the tension between them. Maybe an offhanded remark from him-something cold and dismissive to remind her exactly where they stood.

But he said nothing.

And somehow, that was worse.

Maeve closed her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep, but the weight of the moment pressed against her. She could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth radiating from his body even though they weren't touching.

She thought of his hands.

What would they feel like against her skin? Would they be rough, or would they move with the same calculated precision he used in every other aspect of his life?

The thought sent heat spiraling through her, and she shifted beneath the covers, pressing her thighs together.

But this was ridiculous.

Luca wasn't thinking about her. He had made that clear.

And yet... something about the way he had stripped in front of her, the quiet arrogance of it, made her wonder if he wanted her to look. If he was testing her reaction.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

Maeve exhaled, forcing herself to push the thoughts away. Go to sleep.

But she wasn't the only one lying awake.

Luca kept his body still, his face unreadable in the dim light, but his mind was anything but calm.

He had seen the way she looked at him. Or rather, the way she tried not to.

She didn't realize how transparent she was-how easily he could read the tension in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched when he got too close.

And yet, she hadn't said a word.

She hadn't asked him why he was suddenly comfortable changing in front of her. Hadn't demanded an explanation for the strange shift between them.

She was stronger than he had given her credit for.

And that unsettled him more than anything.

Maeve wanted something from him. Not his money, not the name she had been forced to take, but something real.

Something he couldn't give her.

And if she kept looking at him like that, he wasn't sure how much longer he could resist.

The next morning, when Maeve woke, Luca was already gone.

But this time, his side of the bed wasn't perfectly smooth.

The sheets were rumpled. As if he had been restless, too.

Maeve stared at the empty space beside her, her fingers brushing against the faint warmth still lingering there.

She wasn't imagining it.

Something had shifted.

And she wasn't going to ignore it.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Good morning, Maeve," Maria's voice came softly from the other side. "Breakfast is ready."

Maeve dressed quickly in a light sundress before heading downstairs.

She found Luca at the dining table, already immersed in work. His focus remained on his tablet, his expression unreadable.

"Good morning," she said as she took her seat across from him.

Luca glanced up briefly. "Morning."

That was it. No hesitation. No flicker of acknowledgment of the night before.

Maeve forced a polite smile, though irritation simmered beneath her skin. He had changed in front of her like it meant nothing. Slept beside her like it was just another obligation.

And maybe, to him, it was.

She wasn't going to let it bother her.

The rest of their time at the villa blurred into routine-polite distance, quiet meals, and nights spent lying inches apart, pretending not to feel the pull of something neither of them would name.

Then, just as she was starting to settle into the strange rhythm of this marriage, she was thrown into the deep end.

The Santoro estate was bathed in golden light, the dining room exuding a quiet sophistication that felt more suffocating than elegant.

Maeve sat beside Luca at the long, polished table, her posture stiff as conversation hummed around her.

Antonio, Luca's father, offered her a warm smile from the head of the table. "You've handled yourself well, Maeve," he said. "This family isn't easy to navigate, but you're already proving to be an asset."

Maeve managed a small smile. "Thank you."

Across from them, Claudia-Luca's stepmother-lifted her wine glass, her lips curling into a tight, unreadable smile. "I suppose time will tell," she said lightly. "It takes more than charm to hold your place in this family."

Maeve's fingers tightened around her fork, but she kept her expression neutral.

Claudia's words weren't a warning. They were a challenge.

Before Maeve could think of a response, the room's atmosphere shifted.

The quiet murmur of conversation stilled.

A woman had entered the dining hall, moving with the kind of effortless grace that demanded attention.

Maeve felt the change immediately.

The way Antonio's expression darkened ever so slightly. The way Claudia's smile sharpened.

And the way Luca stiffened beside her.

Maeve turned her head slowly, her stomach twisting.

The woman was stunning-tall, poised, with an air of confidence that suggested she had never once questioned her place in this world. But it wasn't her beauty that made Maeve's chest tighten.

It was the way she looked at Luca.Like she already knew him. Like she belonged in his life.

Maeve's grip on her napkin tightened.

Claudia's voice cut through the heavy silence, too loud, too pleased.

"Isadora," she purred. "So wonderful to see you again."

Maeve barely heard the rest.

Because Luca-who had barely acknowledged her for days-was looking at this woman the way he had never once looked at her.

And that was when she realized.

This wasn't just someone from Luca's past.

This was someone who still mattered.