Alexander sat across from Victoria Ashford at Marcello's, the same restaurant where he'd taken Elena two nights ago, and tried to focus on what his supposed fiancée was saying.
"...and Mother thinks we should do the engagement photos at the estate, but I prefer something more modern. Perhaps the penthouse? Your view is spectacular."
"Whatever you prefer," Alex said, not really caring.
Victoria's perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. "You're distracted. That's unlike you."
"I have a lot on my mind."
"Business?"
"Among other things."
She studied him for a long moment, her blue eyes sharp and assessing. Victoria wasn't stupid-far from it. She'd graduated top of her class at Yale, spoke four languages, and ran her family's media empire with ruthless efficiency. In another life, under different circumstances, they might have even been friends.
But there was no warmth between them. No spark. Just mutual understanding of what this arrangement meant for their respective families.
"You're seeing someone," Victoria said finally, her voice neutral.
Alex's coffee cup paused halfway to his lips. "What makes you say that?"
"You have that look. Distracted but not unhappy about it. Guilty but not enough to stop whatever you're doing." She leaned back in her chair, utterly composed. "Who is she?"
"Does it matter?"
"To me? Not particularly. To your mother? Very much so." Victoria's smile was thin. "I'm not naive, Alexander. I know what this is. A business arrangement that benefits both our families. I don't expect love or fidelity or whatever romantic notion people pretend marriage is about."
"That's incredibly cynical."
"That's incredibly realistic." She took a sip of her wine. "But your mother expects certain... appearances to be maintained. Discretion, if nothing else."
"I'm always discreet."
"Are you? Because you're sitting here thinking about her instead of listening to me discuss our engagement party."
She was right, and they both knew it.
"I'm listening now," he said.
"No, you're pretending to listen. There's a difference." Victoria set down her wine glass, her expression softening fractionally. "Look, I'm not going to lecture you about duty or family or any of the things I'm sure you've heard a thousand times. But I will say this-whatever you're doing, whoever she is, it can't interfere with the timeline. The engagement party is in three weeks. The wedding is in six months. Those things are happening regardless of your current... distraction."
"I'm aware."
"Are you? Because you look like a man who's forgotten what reality looks like."
Alex wanted to argue, but he couldn't. Because she was right. Since meeting Elena, he'd been living in a bubble where obligations and expectations didn't exist. Where he could be just Alex instead of Alexander Hartley, heir to an empire.
But bubbles always burst eventually.
"I'll handle it," he said.
"See that you do." Victoria stood, signaling the end of their lunch. "I'll send you the details for the engagement party. Try to look enthusiastic when you show up."
After she left, Alex sat alone at the table, staring at the spot where he'd sat with Elena just two nights ago. Where they'd talked and laughed and connected in a way he'd never experienced with anyone else.
His phone buzzed with a text from Elena: *Survived your meeting?*
He smiled despite everything. *Barely. Counting down the hours until tonight.*
*Dramatic.*
*Honest.*
*I like honest.*
*I like you.*
The response came quickly: *Smooth talker. See you at midnight.*
*Counting the minutes.*
Marcus appeared at his table, sliding into Victoria's vacated seat. "So I just saw your fiancée storm out looking like she wanted to murder someone. Should I be worried?"
"She didn't storm. Victoria doesn't storm. She exits purposefully."
"Semantics." Marcus flagged down a waiter, ordered coffee. "What happened?"
"She knows I'm seeing someone."
"Of course she does. You're about as subtle as a brick through a window." Marcus leaned forward, his expression serious. "Alex, what are you doing? The engagement party is in three weeks. The contracts are signed. Both families are committed. You can't just-"
"I know what I can't do," Alex snapped, then immediately felt guilty. Marcus was just trying to help. "Sorry. I know you're right. I know this is impossible."
"Then why are you doing it?"
"Because she makes me happy." The words came out raw, honest. "When I'm with Elena, I feel like the person I was supposed to be before all of this. Before David died. Before I became responsible for everything."
Marcus was quiet for a moment. "You really like her."
"I more than like her. And that's the problem."
"Does she know? About Victoria, the engagement, all of it?"
"Not yet. I told her I had complications, obligations I couldn't explain."
"Alex-"
"I know. I need to tell her. I will tell her. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I want a little more time. A few more days of this being real before I have to destroy it."
"That's not fair to her."
"I know that too." Alex met his friend's eyes. "But I'm a selfish bastard who'd rather have a few days of happiness than none at all."
Marcus sighed. "Your mother is going to lose her mind when she finds out."
"My mother lost her mind years ago. She just hides it better than most."
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
They sat in silence for a moment, the restaurant buzzing with lunch conversations around them.
"For what it's worth," Marcus said finally, "I hope you figure out a way to make this work. You deserve to be happy, even if happiness wasn't in the five-year plan your family drafted."
"There's no way to make this work. Not without destroying everything my family has built. Not without breaking contracts and burning bridges and-"
"So burn them. Sometimes the only way to build something new is to tear down what doesn't work anymore."
"Spoken like someone who doesn't have a legacy to protect."
"Spoken like someone who thinks you're worth more than your last name." Marcus stood, clapped him on the shoulder. "But you're right. I don't have a legacy. I just have a friend who's been miserable for five years pretending to be fine. And I'd rather have that friend happy than dutiful."
