WHEN WORLD'S COLLIDE

PRETEND PASSION

I walked Giovanni to the door, and we stood by the elevator, lingering in a moment of comfortable silence. Gio and I have been friends since our kindergarten days, our parents' close relationships cementing our own bond. As we grew older, our friendship only deepened, and I valued his opinion more than anyone else's.

"Gio, I appreciate your concern, but I'm positive about this," I assured him, my voice low and confident. "Dovey is...different. She's got a spark, and I think we can make this work."

Gio raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "You're sure about this, Luca? You're not just caught up in the moment?"

I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure, Gio. I've got this under control. Trust me."

We shared a bro hug, a familiar gesture that spoke volumes about our friendship. "I trust you, Luca," Gio said, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "If you say so, I believe you."

With a final nod, Gio stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind him. I watched him disappear from view before turning back to the penthouse, my thoughts drifting to the woman sleeping on my couch.

I approached Dovey quietly, not wanting to disturb her. She was curled up on the plush cushions, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. I stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of her peaceful expression, her features softened in slumber.

"She must be exhausted," I thought, a pang of sympathy striking my chest. I didn't want to leave her there, exposed and vulnerable, so I decided to carry her to her room. I scooped her up gently, cradling her in my arms as I navigated the penthouse. Though I hadn't given her a tour yet, I made a mental note to do that tomorrow

As I laid her down on the bed, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, our gazes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. Then, her lids drooped, and she settled back into sleep, her body relaxing into the mattress.

I stood there, watching her sleep, my mind whirling with thoughts of the contract, our fake relationship, and the unspoken connection between us. I knew that this was just the beginning of a complex journey, one that would test my resolve, my heart, and my very sanity. But as I gazed at Dovey, I couldn't help but feel a spark of hope – hope that maybe, just maybe…

******

I jolted upright in bed, my heart racing like a runaway train as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings. How did I get here? I thought, my mind foggy with sleep, as if a thick layer of fog had rolled in, obscuring my memories. But I pushed the question aside, focusing on the bedside clock instead. My eyes widened in alarm, my pupils dilating like saucers, as I saw the time - I had only 10 minutes to get ready! I mentally slapped myself, wondering how I could have overslept so badly, so recklessly.

A frustrated grunt escaped my lips, a sound of disbelief and annoyance, as I thought about skipping work, playing hooky like a truant schoolgirl. But then I remembered I hadn't filled Emily in on my situation with Luca yet, and I couldn't afford to miss work today, not with the contract signing looming over me like a guillotine.

Just as I was about to dash into the bathroom to start getting ready, to scramble into some semblance of humanity, I heard a knock at the door, a gentle rap-rap-rap that made me jump like a startled rabbit. I rushed to answer it, my hair disheveled, my clothes rumpled from sleep, looking like I'd been put through a wringer. And there he was, standing in the doorway, looking like a million bucks, his tailored Armani suit fitting him like a glove, his hair slicked back with gel, his eyes gleaming with a knowing glint.

I, on the other hand, looked like I'd been run over by a train, a hot mess express, a chaotic whirlwind of tangled hair and creased clothes. "Um...hi," I stammered, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment, as if a thousand suns had burst into flames on my cheeks. I mentally facepalmed myself, wishing I could start the day over again, hit the reset button, and emerge from my bedroom looking poised and polished, like a Vogue cover model.

But Luca just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his lips curving upwards in a gentle, indulgent smile, as if he found my disheveled state endearing, charming even. "Good morning, Dovey," he said, his voice low and smooth, like a rich, velvety chocolate. "I see you're running a bit behind schedule.”

"Are you not going to work?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes fixed on his suit-clad form, his confident stride as he entered the room.

"I'm taking you to work," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "From now on, I'll be driving you."

I felt a surge of protest, my mouth opening to object, but he cut me off with a raised hand. "I'm taking you now, go shower," he said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement, as if he knew I was about to argue.

I stood there, appalled, my mind racing with the implications of his statement. Was he kidding me? Was he seriously planning to chauffeur me around like some kind of pampered princess? But before I could gather my thoughts, he was already striding out of the room, leaving me standing there, feeling like a stunned rabbit.

Taking a quick shower, I wasted no time getting dressed, tying my hair in a ponytail, and hurrying downstairs to meet him. As I descended the stairs, I saw him busy on his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen with a speed and dexterity that left me in awe. He was smirking, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and I couldn't help but wonder who he was texting. Was it a girlfriend? A colleague? A friend? The thought sent a pang of jealousy through me, and I mentally chided myself for it. I had no right to feel jealous, no claim on him whatsoever.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and he dropped his phone, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. "Ready to go?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, as if he knew exactly how much I was struggling to keep up with him.

I hummed a response, feeling like a mouse in his presence, and followed him out to the car. Once we were settled in, he handed me a sandwich and a coffee, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he said, "You didn't have breakfast." My heart warmed at the gesture, and I smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

As we drove to the cafe, I couldn't help but steal glances at him, his profile chiseled and strong, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He was a force to be reckoned with, a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with a single-minded determination that left me breathless. And yet, there was a softness to him, a kindness that he only revealed in fleeting moments, like when he handed me that sandwich and coffee.

We arrived at the cafe sooner than expected, and he parked with a precision that left me impressed. As I was about to leave, he held my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine with a warmth that sent shivers down my spine. "What time do you get off?" he asked, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race.

"At four," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, my mind racing with the implications of his question. Why did he want to know? Was he planning to pick me up again? Take me out for dinner? The thought sent a flutter through me, and I felt like a schoolgirl again, crushing on a boy who was way out of my league.

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me, my eyes fixed on his with a boldness that surprised even myself.

"I'm taking you shopping," he said, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. And with that, he released my hand, his eyes never leaving mine, as if daring me to object.