The morning sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Elion vacation estate, casting golden light across polished marble floors and sleek, modern furnishings. The mansion stood like a crown jewel on the coast—glass balconies, an infinity pool that shimmered like liquid sapphire, a private gym with panoramic ocean views, and a silence so pristine it almost dared you to disturb it. It was the kind of place that whispered wealth and screamed legacy.
Luca Elion was in his private gym, shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin as he powered through another set of pull-ups. The rhythmic sound of his breath and the low thump of music filled the space. His muscles flexed with each rep, but his mind wasn't on the workout.
It was on her.
That girl from the bakery.
He didn't even know her name, but her voice had echoed in his head all night. The way she stood up to him. The way she looked at him like she saw right through the charm. And that hair—long, black, full, like a crown she wore without apology. She hadn't just challenged him—she'd dismissed him. And for some reason, that stung more than it should have.
He dropped from the bar, wiping sweat from his brow just as a knock came at the door.
"Come in," he called, already knowing who it was.
Kate Langford stepped in, her platinum blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, dressed in a cropped hoodie and leggings that screamed designer. She made herself at home, perching on the edge of the weight bench like she belonged there.
"I still can't believe that girl yesterday," she said, rolling her eyes. "The nerve. Acting like she knew you. Like she had the right to say anything."
Luca's jaw tightened. "What exactly did she say that offended you so much?"
Kate scoffed. "She basically implied you were some spoiled jerk who doesn't take life seriously. And the way she said it—like she was better than you."
Kate then sneered, "Honestly, that dumb African American girl doesn't know what she's talking about."
Luca dropped the towel onto the bench, his eyes blazing with anger. "How dare you say that dumb African American nonsense, Kate? That's not just wrong—it's disgusting. You need to think before you speak."
Kate's face paled, and she looked down, ashamed. "I... I'm sorry, Luca. I didn't mean to—"
"No more of that," he said firmly. "You're better than this. Now own up and don't let it happen again."
Kate looked down, biting her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like that."
Luca sighed, grabbing a bottle of water. "You're like a little sister to me, Kate. But don't ever say something like that again."
She nodded again, then quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, my girlfriend's ghosting me again. We had another fight. She's being dramatic."
Luca gave a noncommittal grunt, still annoyed but letting it slide. He wasn't in the mood for her drama.
---
That night, the Langford estate across the road glowed just as brightly. Jake and Kate's father, Charles Langford, was a tech mogul and Luca's father's oldest friend. Their families had vacationed side by side for years. Their stepmother, Vanessa Langford, was close friends with Luca's mother, Celeste Elion—a woman of grace and quiet strength who somehow managed to stay married to the coldest man Luca had ever known.
Victor Elion was a billionaire with a God complex. Nothing was ever enough. Not grades. Not awards. Not even Luca himself. If it weren't for his mother, Luca was sure he'd have turned out just like him.
---
Later that night, the city pulsed with life. Neon lights flickered over the private club's entrance, velvet ropes keeping the crowd at bay. Luca and Jake Langford stepped out of a sleek black car, dressed in tailored suits that turned heads.
Jake adjusted his collar nervously. "You sure Kate's okay with us coming without her?"
"She'll live," Luca said, smirking. "Besides, I needed a break from her whining."
As they approached the entrance, Luca's steps slowed.
There she was.
The girl from the bakery.
She stood outside the club with two other women—one tall and poised with a sharp jawline and piercing eyes, the other shorter with a mischievous glint in her gaze. Sisters, maybe. The tall one was clearly the leader, and the shorter one was already scanning the crowd like she owned it.
Luca nudged Jake. "Look who it is."
Jake followed his gaze and nearly tripped. "Oh. Wow. She's here."
Luca grinned. "Let's say hi."
Jake hesitated. "Luca, maybe don't—"
But Luca was already walking over.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said, flashing that signature grin.
Lila turned, her expression unreadable. "You again."
"You still judging strangers in bakeries, or do you save that for special occasions?"
Pearl, the taller sister, raised an eyebrow. "Who's this?"
"No one important," Lila said.
"Ouch," Luca chuckled. "Still spicy, I see."
Jake stepped up awkwardly. "Hi. I'm Jake."
Pearl smiled. "Pearl. This is my sister Lila. And that's Amara."
Luca gestured toward the bouncer. "You ladies want in? I can get us all inside."
"We're good," Lila said flatly.
But Pearl had other plans. "Actually, that sounds great."
Before Lila could protest, Pearl looped her arm through hers. "Come on, Lila. Don't be boring."
---
Inside, the music was loud, the lights low, and the energy electric. Luca led them to a private booth, ordering drinks like he owned the place. Lila sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room.
"So," Luca said, leaning toward her, "what's it like being so perfect all the time?"
Lila turned to him, eyes sharp. "What's it like hiding behind jokes because you're terrified of being taken seriously?"
The table went quiet.
Luca's smile faded. "You don't know me."
"And you don't know me," she shot back. "But that didn't stop you from acting like a clown yesterday."
Pearl cleared her throat. "Okay, tension. Let's dial it down."
But it was too late. The spark had caught.
Luca leaned back, eyes locked on Lila. "You really think you're better than everyone, don't you?"
"No," she said, standing. "Just better than you."
And with that, she walked away, leaving Luca staring after her, jaw clenched.
Jake exhaled. "So... that went well."
Luca didn't respond. He just watched her disappear into the crowd, something sharp and electric twisting in his chest.
He didn't know her name yesterday.
Now he couldn't forget it.
And he was starting to wish he had.
---