RIVAL HEARTS,her enemy,her ruin

Elena's Pov I looked perfect. At least that was what they'd all say to me tonight. My hair was perfect. My designer Moretti evening wear in midnight blue was cut to perfection to hug like a second skin. My makeup was done by a woman flown in from Paris. Let's just say I looked every inch the heiress I was born to be. The kind of beauty who didn't enter a room-but owned it. But in front of the tall mirror in my bedroom, wearing heels and earrings, I couldn't help but think that I looked more mannequin than human. Beautiful. Silent. Lifeless. I put a hand on my stomach. Nerves fluttered down there, not the kind that tingled with thrill, but the kind that felt heavy and painful. The kind that whispered, “This isn't really you.” “Tesoro,” a voice called accompanied by a knock on the door. Her voice always made me feel small in the very best manner. "Are you ready?" I smiled, marginally, before uttering, "Come in, Rosa.". The door creaked and Rosa entered, carrying my evening bag. Her warm gaze swept over me as it did every time from when I was five and cried because I could not tie up my shoes properly. This woman didn't see the diamonds or the designer dress. She saw me. "You look like your mamma," she murmured, a hint of sadness. "Just as elegant. And definitely just as stubborn." I smiled faintly at her. "Is that supposed to be a tease or a compliment?" "Both," she laughed, and came closer to tuck a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. "Come on, Luca's downstairs, looking like trouble in a tux. You two are going to have tongues wagging tonight.". I raised an eyebrow, yet I could feel a heat building in my chest. Luca was my childhood best friend, my partner in crime and the only person in the world asides Rosa who knew how much I hated gatherings like this. That's why I had asked him to accompany me as my date to the Moretti Corporation's 50th-anniversary gala. Not for display, but survival. "I'm coming," I said, grabbing my clutch and giving myself one last look in the mirror. I didn't know the woman staring back at me. But I smiled at her anyway. The ballroom was already dazzling when we got there. Glass, gold, and champagne sparkled like a fantasy built to impress royalty. A quartet played something elegant in the background, and the air smelled like roses, perfume, and expensive secrets. Luca grinned and rested his hand on my arm, leaning in near my ear, "If one more person asks us when we're finally getting married, I'm faking having a medical breakdown." I burst out laughing. "If someone asks me, I will say we already did in Vegas, last spring.You just fainted and forgot." He laughed, and for a moment, everything felt lighter. Until he caught my eye. I wasn't even looking for anything or anyone… But there he was, propped against one of the marble columns, half concealed beneath the crystal chandelier. Alone, fists in his palms, his drink untouched. He was good-looking, for sure. But not the sleek, predictable kind of good looking this room was full of. There was something more ‘rough around the edges’ about him. Something distant. Like he'd rather be somewhere else but somehow still fit in here. And he was staring at me. Not staring like some entitled rich brat. No, he was watching. Paying attention. A flicker of interest sparked beneath my ribs. "Elena," Luca whispered, noticing my shift in posture. "You okay?" "Who's that?" I said, not taking my eyes away from the man. Luca glanced in the direction I was staring, then raised an eyebrow. "No clue. Don't know him. Perhaps one of the DeLucas? He looks like them." I widened my eyes. "The DeLuca clan?" He nodded. "I heard their second son came instead of their father. Word is he lives abroad. Charities and rescue missions or something altruistic like that. Never did like the limelight." "Second son?" I repeated, more to myself than to Luca. The man moved toward the bar, still slowly, still calm. As if the crowd did not exist. As if I was the only thing worthy of his attention. I moved without realizing it. "Elena," Luca whispered, his fingers grazing my arm. "Hey. Do you want a drink? Or I can just rescue you from your uncle, he's about to make the rounds." But I was already moving, drawn by something I couldn't explain. I moved away from the crowd, from the music, from the expectations sewn into every thread of my dress, and toward him. He noticed me and straightened up a little, looking at me with the same steady gaze. Up close, he was even more... real. Tall, broad shouldered and breathtaking. There were creases at the corners of his eyes as if he'd seen too much for someone who looked barely older than me. There was this kind of silence that hung around him. It didn't feel akward, it felt... different. I didn't even attempt to pretend that I had some reason to talk to him. "I don't think I've seen you at one of these before," I said, my voice lighter than I was feeling. He arched an eyebrow, looking amused. "Do you go to a lot of empire anniversary balls?" I smiled- soft and genuine. "Unfortunately, yes. Occupational hazard." "Of being rich and beautiful?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Of being born into the wrong family with the right last name." His smile was lopsided, unexpected. "You're an honest one." "Only with strangers." He c****d his head and laughed. "Should I be flattered or concerned?" "Depends. Are you a DeLuca?" "Does that change the way I look at you?" I hesitated. "Perhaps." "Then I won't say it." He wasn't being evasive, just… playful. But also guarded, like he liked keeping pieces of himself locked away behind closed doors just to see if someone noticed them. "Fair enough," I said. "But I'd still like to hear your…" "Elena!" The voice broke through all of it. Not harsh but urgent and very familiar. Rosa. I turned, heart sinking. She stood at the edge of the crowd, eyes scanning until they met mine. "Come, Tesoro. Your grandfather wants to have his photo taken with you and Luca. Now." I looked him, then at Rosa and back at him again. He met my gaze with a quiet sort of understanding. As if we both knew the moment had been real, but temporary. I waited. Just one more second longer. But in the end, I did what I always do. I smiled, turned and walked away.