Chapter 49
673 Words
Lucas’s POV
The lights from the chandelier above cast golden flecks across the grand ballroom, and I sat on the VIP stage beside my father, half-listening to Henry talk about something dumb as usual.
Everyone was here.
The music played low and elegant, glasses clinked, girls laughed too loudly, and cameras flashed. The birthday I didn’t even want had turned into a royal circus. My mother made sure of that.
But I wasn’t focused on any of it.
I kept staring toward the door.
Waiting.
Then, I saw her.
Alice.
She stepped into the room, carefully, like she wasn’t sure her shoes were allowed to touch the polished marble floor. She wore the navy-blue dress I sent anonymously. It fit her so well, it made me forget to breathe for a second.
She was stunning.
Not in the showy way most girls tried to be tonight—but in that quiet, natural way that made her look like she didn’t belong here, and yet somehow *outshined everyone*.
But just as she entered, Amelia turned around—her heels clicking against the floor—and *bumped* into Alice with a little too much force.
Alice stumbled forward with a soft gasp.
Before anyone could react, I was already off my seat.
She blinked.
“It was a gift, Alice. Not a deal. Not charity. Just something I wanted to do. No refund.”
Her expression softened.
“I didn’t want you to miss tonight because of something stupid like a dress,” I said quietly.
She held my gaze, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not what I expected, Lucas.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m only just getting started.”
She didn’t speak for a moment. Just sat there beside me, her fingers resting lightly in her lap, eyes still wide from everything that had just happened.
I could feel her nerves.
She wasn’t used to being the center of attention—especially not like this. But I didn’t care about the whispers or the looks. Not tonight.
All I cared about was that she was here. That she came.
And that I’d just publicly chosen her over Amelia.
“Are they still staring?” she asked under her breath.
“Definitely,” I said. “You kind of just stole the spotlight.”
Her head turned sharply toward me. “I didn’t ask for that.”
“I know,” I said, smirking. “But you deserve it anyway.”
She looked down again, fiddling with the edge of her dress. “You know, this is crazy. Me. Sitting here. With you. In *this* place.”
“I invited you for a reason, Alice.”
“And nearly caused a scandal doing it.”
“Worth it,” I said without hesitation.
She gave me a sideways look, like she wasn’t sure if I was messing with her or being serious. Truth was—I was being more real with her than I’d been with anyone in a long time.
She leaned in slightly, voice lower now. “You really didn’t have to send this dress. It’s… too much.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “You would’ve stayed home just to avoid attention.”
She didn’t argue, which meant I was right.
“I just didn’t want you to feel small tonight,” I added. “Or out of place.”
“You make it sound like I’m some fragile—”
“You’re not fragile,” I cut in, voice firmer. “You’re just real. And that makes you rare here.”
That caught her off guard.
A slow breath escaped her lips. “Lucas…”
“I meant it,” I said. “I don’t want your money. I don’t need thanks. I just want you here.”
Our eyes locked again.
This time, she didn’t look away.
And right then, I didn’t care if the whole room was watching.
Because tonight, I was done pretending.
And maybe… just maybe… so was she.
- Writer
