Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
KAI
We avoided everything for over two days.
Just Luca’s parents’ house, long mornings in bed, lazy afternoons by the pool, and nights where we locked the bedroom door and forgot the rest of the world existed. It felt like breathing for the first time in months.
But nothing stays hidden forever.
On the third morning, while Luca and I are still tangled up in the sheets trading slow kisses, the doorbell rings.
Luca groans against my mouth. “Ignore it.”
It rings again. Then again. Persistent. His parents should be home, at least they said they had no plans for today. Maybe it is one of their friends.
Beth’s voice floats up from downstairs. “Luca, honey? Tasha’s here.”
Luca’s head drops to my shoulder with a defeated sigh. “Of course she is.”
We drag ourselves out of bed, throw on clothes, and head downstairs. Tasha is waiting in the living room, looking exhausted but determined, phone clutched in her hand.
She doesn’t waste time.
“Harry wants a call. Now. The leak blew up bigger than we thought. Fans are splitting—some think it’s proof you’re fake, others think Whitney’s the victim. The label is getting heat. He needs damage control.”
Luca crosses his arms. “We told him we’re done with the scripted stuff.”
Tasha sighs. “He knows. But he’s panicking. He wants you two to stage something public…a romantic dinner, a kiss caught on camera, something that screams ‘this is real.’ He says it’s the only way to shut down the backlash.”
I feel Luca tense beside me. My own stomach twists. We just spent two perfect days pretending none of this existed. Now it’s crashing back in.
Luca looks at me. I meet his eyes. We don’t need words. The look we share says everything.
Luca turns back to Tasha.
“Put him on speaker.”
She dials. Harry picks up on the second ring, voice clipped.
“Finally. Look, the narrative is slipping. We need to prove this isn’t fake. A staged scene. Dinner, walk on the beach, whatever. Make it look real. Fans are turning on us.”
Luca’s voice is calm but final. “No.”
Harry pauses. “Excuse me?”
“We’re not staging anything,” Luca says. “We told you we’re done with the scripted shit. If the fans think it’s fake, that’s on you for pushing the fake version for so long. We don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
I step closer to Luca, shoulder brushing his.
“It’s your bed,” I add quietly. “You can lay in it.”
Silence on the line.
Harry’s voice comes back sharper. “You’re under contract—”
“And the contract says promotional activities,” Luca cuts in. “Not porn. Not fake relationships. We’ll finish the tour. We’ll give the fans the shows. But we’re not performing our private life for your numbers.”
Another beat of silence.
Harry exhales, frustrated. “I could replace you. If the numbers tank—”
“Then do it,” I say. I’m so sick of his threats.
Luca laces our fingers together, squeezing once. The call ends with Harry muttering something about “ungrateful kids.”
Tasha pockets her phone, looking relieved and exhausted at the same time. “Sorry for barging in. I’ll handle the fallout as best I can,” she says. “You two should enjoy the rest of your time off.”
She leaves, and the house falls quiet again.
“You good?” Luca asks.
“Better than good.”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I love you so damn much, Kai. I don’t know what I would have done without you in my life.”
“Good thing we will never need to find out. Because I’m pretty sure I’d be pretty lost without you, too.”
We’re still standing there, foreheads close, when Luca’s mom pops her head into the room.
“Everything okay in here?” she asks gently, eyes moving between us with quiet concern. “I heard parts of the call…and then the door. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I thought I’d check. After the neighbor's maid leaked that video, I feel a little more protective of my family.”
Luca gives her a small smile. “No need to go mama bear or anything. We’re good, Mom. Just some label stuff. It’s handled.”
She studies us for a second longer, then nods, her expression softening into something warm and motherly.
“Well, if you’re both all right…I made breakfast. Nothing fancy, just eggs, toast, and some fruit. Come eat before it gets cold?”
I feel a little flutter in my chest at the casual invitation. It’s such a simple thing, breakfast with his mom, but it feels huge.
Luca glances at me, then back at her. “Yeah. We’ll be right there.”
She smiles and disappears back toward the kitchen.
Luca turns to me, thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“You sure you’re okay with all this?” he asks quietly.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
He grins brightly. “No?”
I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Absolutely not. You’re stuck with me.”
“Good. Because I kind of like having my uptight, control-freak boyfriend around.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “Shut up and feed me breakfast, like a good boyfriend would.”
He laughs and tugs me toward the kitchen. Then he tugs me into his lap as he sits down at the island. His mom slides a plate of food over, and he picks up a fork, spearing a pineapple cube.
“Open up,” he coaxes. “I’ve got plans, and this will make them better.”
His dad clears his throat from the doorway, and I flush at both his parents hearing his words, because I’m positive, even if they don’t say a word, they know exactly what he means by them.
He presses the fruit against my lips, and I open for him, taking the bite and chewing slowly. He grins wickedly and stabs another one.
“More.”
I take the second piece, heat still lingering in my cheeks. Luca’s free hand rests on my thigh, thumb stroking slow circles that feel far too distracting for breakfast with his parents.
Beth sets down a mug of coffee in front of me, smiling like she’s seen nothing unusual.
“Eat up, both of you. You look like you could use it after whatever kept you two so busy the last couple days.”
Dax chuckles from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his own coffee. “Yeah, well…as long as you’re keeping my boy happy, I won’t ask too many questions.”
Luca laughs under his breath and feeds me another bite, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I chew, trying not to blush harder, but it’s impossible with Luca looking at me like that—as if he’s already thinking about exactly what those “plans” are once we’re alone again.
The food is good. The company is warm. And even with the leak still hanging somewhere out in the world, sitting here in Luca’s lap while he feeds me pineapple and his parents pretend not to notice how close we are…it feels right.
Like I belong here.
Like this could be normal.
Luca leans in, lips brushing my ear so only I can hear.
“Eat fast, princess. I’ve got plans for you upstairs that don’t involve clothes.”
I nearly choke on the next bite.
He just grins wider and offers me another piece of fruit, completely unbothered by his parents being right there.
I take it.
And I can’t stop smiling.
Whatever comes next—Harry, the leak, the band—we’ll face it.
But right now, with Luca’s arm around me and his quiet teasing in my ear, I feel like I can handle anything.
As long as it’s with him.