Chapter 6 #2
When our eyes locked, a rush of heat surged through my body.
And I felt my wolf leap with excitement.
But I shut it down. Immediately. Because despite how sinfully handsome he looked, despite how breathtaking he was, it didn’t change the fact that he was a cold, cold man who’d once brutally rejected us.
And I should be angry.
Not fantasizing about being pinned between him and the gazebo wall like some sex-starved lunatic.
I tore my gaze away, summoning my most I don’t give a flying fuck expression.
Elena squealed, then ran toward Luca, flinging her arms around his neck.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, babe.”
Babe?
Ugh. My stomach twisted.
I glanced back just in time to see her pull away from him.
Luca hadn’t moved. He hadn’t wrapped an arm around her.
He hadn’t even stopped looking at me.
They exchanged a few words—or rather, she mumbled something and he looked thoroughly unimpressed. Then she looped her hand around his arm like it was the only thing tethering her to this world, and led him toward the gazebo.
Now, I wasn’t a matchmaker. Hell, I barely passed my chemistry class in school. But even I could see it. Luca Vaughn looked disinterested, not just in this wedding, but in the blonde beauty clinging to him.
I shook the thought off as quickly as it came.
What did it matter?
He was getting married to her, and I was here to plan their wedding.
As professional courtesy demands, I stood as Luca entered the gazebo.
“It’s nice to have you join us, Mr. Vaughn,” I said, forcing a tight smile as I extended my hand.
He barely touched it before I snatched it back.
Unashamedly, Luca’s lazy gaze dragged over me—from my face, down my cleavage peeking out from my camisole. His eyes lingered on my chest for a second too long before moving lower.
I swore his pupils dilated when they landed on my pencil skirt. And that very action…it set my entire nerves alight.
Instant regret washed over me. Why did I wear this outfit?
“You’re just in time,” Elena squeaked, practically vibrating with joy at his presence. “Leila was just about to show me the venues she located for the wedding.”
“Yes,” I said, sliding back into my seat with what dignity I had left. “Now you both can come to a decision together.”
I avoided Luca’s gaze as he settled into the seat beside Elena.
If I didn’t know better, I would’ve called him a mute.
But I did know better. Luca didn’t speak much—he let his eyes, those devilish steel-gray eyes, do all the talking.
And right now, they were saying, “I dare you to react, Leila.”
But no.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his presence alone got under my skin.
I turned my laptop toward them and hit play on the slideshow.
Ten minutes later, it ended.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence that followed afterward. “All the venues are capable of hosting at least a thousand guests—”
“A thousand?” Elena cut in, her voice sharp and dripping with scorn.
“Who said anything about a thousand guests? My guest list includes the Alpha King and his envoy. All eight Alphas from the New York packs. Their envoys. Notable and worthy Betas of select houses. The State Governor. Alphas from across Europe. VVIPs from America. I’m expecting no less than three thousand guests. ”
This time, I couldn’t control my reaction.
To hell with polite smiles and professionalism.
My eyes flew wide.
Three thousand guests?
That was more than three times the population of Vatican City.
A quiet chuckle drifted across the table, and my gaze snapped to Luca.
What, exactly, was so funny?
Elena flipped her hair and leveled her gaze at me, voice dripping with condescension.
“Look, Leila, I know this is all new territory to you. You’re not used to events of this opulence and extravagance.
I’ve got Ellen’s Events and Planning on standby to take over if you’re not…
capable. We’ll just release a statement to the press that—” she waved a manicured hand, “you know, you’re unfit to plan my wedding. ”
Fantastic.
“I mean, your portfolio is slightly impressive and all,” she continued, “but I’m starting to wonder—can you really handle an event of this magnitude?”
Physically, I sat there—cool as ice. Internally? My jaw was on the floor.
How did we even get here?
I tried to smile, but it came out crooked. There was only so much I could fake.
“Elena—”
“Scroll back to the third photo you showed us.”
That voice—low, rough, commanding—was Luca’s. His first words since he got here.
“Huh?” I blinked at him.
He gave me a lazy, knowing smile, leaned forward, and took my laptop like he owned both it and the oxygen in the room. His fingers tapped swiftly on the keyboard before he turned the screen toward me.
“That venue is perfect.”
It was Villa Barone Manor.
Elegant. Regal. Breathtaking.
But apparently not flashy enough for Her Royal Highness Elena.
“I see no reason why we should have three thousand guests for the wedding ceremony,” Luca said, clearly to Elena, but his eyes didn’t leave mine.
And there was something in the way he said “wedding ceremony”. Tight-lipped. Controlled. Like the very phrase left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Elena gave a short laugh, high-pitched and hollow. “You must be kidding me, Luca.”
Luca finally looked at her with an expression that said, I’m not fucking kidding.
“I need more than a thousand guests if we want the kind of buzz I’m aiming for,” Elena whined. “I mean, the world should know the daughter of the Alpha of the Bronx pack is getting married.”
I cringed internally. If pride had a face…
Luca turned back to me.
“How about I take you to a few locations?”
My spine straightened so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.
No.
“How does Friday evening sound?” he added, that stupid, smug smile curling up his face. The man knew exactly what he was doing.
Alone? With Luca Vaughn?
God, no.
I could barely keep it together with Elena between us.
“I, um—” I stammered, looking for excuses I didn’t have. “I have plans.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What plans?”
I blinked at him.
Was it appropriate for a groom to ask his wedding planner what she was doing Friday night?
Elena folded her arms. “Yes, Leila. What plans? What could possibly be more important than planning my wedding?”
I was cornered.
My only Friday plan involved cartoons, popcorn, and a four-year-old boy.
But I couldn’t say that.
“I, um—” I stammered, scrambling for a reason. Any reason. “I have an appointment.”
Luca raised a brow. “Can’t it be rescheduled?”
“It’s with a specialist,” I said, firmer this time. “It’s…kind of important. Took weeks to get.”
His smirk faltered, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Is it serious?”
I hesitated. Then nodded. “It’s fine.”
But I could see the concern etched between his brows. The shift in his body.
“It’s with a sleep specialist,” I added. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping. They think it might be stress-induced insomnia.”
He didn’t say anything else. I blew an internal sigh of relief. Dodged a bullet there.
Just then, my phone rang. And as I reached for the table to silence it, I saw the caller ID.
Blaze.
From frying pan to fire.
I froze. And Luca noticed. When I glanced up, his eyes were narrowed on me. I didn’t have Blaze’s money. Not even a quarter of it. And just like that, my mind spiraled back to the last time he had called on the day he’d threatened to come for my son.
My chest tightened. I shifted in my seat, all thoughts of wedding venues and oversized egos evaporating.
I muted the call and flipped the phone over like that alone could bury the problem.
At the same time, Elena’s phone rang.
“One moment,” she said. “It’s my publicist from London.” She stood up and swanned out of the gazebo, leaving me and Luca in a silence that felt way too loud.
The silence stretched on for a few minutes. And in all that time, I was shutting down my laptop, slipping it into my bag—doing anything except acknowledging the man sitting across from me.
Then came Luca’s voice. “Wedding planning, huh?”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t glance in his direction.
“You know, I looked at your portfolio last night. It’s quite impressive.”
Last night? Didn’t he have anything better to do? Like sleep?
Still, I said nothing, just kept packing my things.
Then he leaned forward and asked the one question that broke my calm.
“I don’t think wedding planning suits you, Leila. You’ve got way more potential than that.”
My gaze snapped up to him. “What right do you have to question my career choice, Luca?”
He had the audacity to smirk. He opened his mouth to respond, but my phone rang again.
I checked the caller ID. Still Blaze.
“Who’s Blaze?” Luca asked, his voice dangerously low, edged with something I might have mistaken for jealousy.
“It’s none of your damn business, Luca,” I said sharply.
I must have struck a nerve, because his face contorted into a frown as he stared at me. As if he thought looking hard enough would pry the answer out of me.
But this time, I didn’t look away. I held his gaze.
The stare down broke when my phone buzzed again. Not a call this time. A text.
I opened it.
And my heart dropped. It was a photo of Blaze in my living room.
With my son. With Ollie.
Panic surged through me as I shot up immediately. My throat tightened. My breath stalled.
“Leila—” I heard Luca’s voice, softer now, lined with something I couldn’t stop to process.
“I have to go.”
And without another word, without another glance, I ran.