The event was exactly what she expected.
Elegant.
Expensive.
And filled with people who smiled too easily and watched too closely.
Elize stood beside Luca, her posture perfect, her expression neutral.
Every movement mattered here.
Every glance.
“Relax,” Luca murmured beside her.
“You look like you’re preparing for war.”
“I might be,” she said under her breath.
That earned the faintest hint of a smile.
“Good,” he said. “You’ll fit in.”
People approached them in waves.
Introductions.
Polite conversations.
Hidden intentions.
“Elize, this is Marco Bellini,” Luca said at one point.
The man in front of her smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“A pleasure,” Marco said. “We’ve heard very little about you.”
“That’s because there’s very little to hear,” Elize replied smoothly.
A lie.
But a useful one.
Marco studied her a second longer than necessary.
Then nodded.
“Interesting,” he said before walking away.
“You handled that well,” Luca said.
“I’ve had practice.”
“With men like him?”
“With men who underestimate me.”
That earned her another look.
Longer this time.
More thoughtful.
Across the room, Elize felt it.
A stare.
Sharp.
Focused.
She didn’t turn immediately.
But when she did—
Sofia was watching her.
Not casually.
Not idly.
Carefully.
Like she was already putting pieces together.
“Elize.”
Luca’s voice pulled her back.
“Yes?”
“Stay close.”
Her eyes flicked to his.
“Worried I’ll get lost?”
“No,” he said quietly.
“Worried someone else might find you first.”
The meaning beneath that wasn’t subtle.
This wasn’t protection.
It was possession.
Elize smiled faintly.
“Then you should keep a better grip.”
His gaze darkened.
And for a second—
The air between them shifted.