Emma opened the box to find deep emerald silk that shimmered when she lifted it into the light. The neckline was elegant. The cut was tailored perfectly to her body. The designer label made her hands shake.
A second note was tucked inside.
You deserve to be looked at the way I’ve been looking at you for three months.
Emma sat down hard on her bed.
This was insane.
She barely knew Luca outside of late-night conversations and shared exhaustion and the odd, electric tension that had been building since the first time she’d walked into his office and refused to be intimidated.
But he’d saved Sophie.
And he’d looked at Camille like she was nothing the moment she’d tried to make Emma feel small.
And now he’d sent a dress that made her feel like someone who belonged in rooms she’d only ever cleaned.
Emma put it on.
When she walked downstairs that evening, the house felt different. Brighter. Louder. Guests had already arrived, filling the main rooms with laughter and conversation and the particular brand of elegance that came with old money and older power.
Teresa saw her first.
Her face transformed.
“Emma.”
Every head in the room turned.
Emma forced herself to breathe.
And then Luca appeared at the top of the stairs.
He stopped.
His expression went carefully blank in the way that meant he was feeling too much to show safely.
He descended the stairs without looking away from her once.
When he reached her, he offered his hand.
“You’re stunning.”
Emma’s throat was dry. “You sent the dress.”
“I sent a suggestion. You made it unforgettable.”
His hand was warm in hers.
They walked into the party together.
The night unfolded like a fever dream.
Luca introduced her as his partner to people whose names Emma had only ever read in newspapers. He kept one hand on the small of her back, a touch so constant and sure that Emma started to forget it was for show.
Teresa watched them like a scientist studying a beloved experiment.
And then, halfway through dinner, Camille arrived.
Emma’s stomach dropped.
Camille stood in the doorway, perfectly dressed, perfectly composed, scanning the room until her gaze landed on Luca.
Then on Emma.
Her expression curdled.
She crossed the room with the confidence of someone who had never been told no in her life.
“Luca. I didn’t expect to see you so soon after last night’s misunderstanding.”
“There was no misunderstanding,” Luca said evenly.
Camille’s smile sharpened. “Of course. You were simply protecting your employee. Admirable, really.”
Emma felt the shift in Luca’s posture.
“Emma isn’t my employee anymore.”
Camille’s smile faltered. “What?”
“She’s my partner. As of this morning.”
Emma’s heart stopped.
“Partner,” Camille repeated slowly.
“Yes.”
“In what capacity?”
Luca’s hand tightened on Emma’s waist. “Every capacity.”
The room had gone silent.
Camille’s gaze cut to Emma. “You must be very proud of yourself.”
“I’m sorry?”
