5. Mess up

~Sienna~

“Don’t drool too much,” Lucas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he tilted his head toward the display. “It’s just a show to make Father believe our ruse.”

I blinked, caught between the flickering light on the diamonds and his words. I wasn’t drooling, thank you very much—but something about the rings had taken my breath.

Lucas’s gaze settled on a ring—the most extravagant one in the display. It was a stunning emerald-cut sky blue diamond, large and perfectly cut, with smaller diamonds set around it, sparkling like stars in an elegantly simple platinum band.

My eyes widened as he pointed to it. “Wait—no way. That’s…Lucas, that’s too much.”

Without missing a beat, he signaled the sales assistant over, his gaze shifting briefly to me. “This one,” he said smoothly. “Box it.”

“Lucas,” I hissed under my breath, stepping closer. “We’re pretending to be engaged. Pretending. We don’t need the most expensive ring in the store. There are plenty of rings here that are more affordable.” I gestured toward a simple, modest ring—a small diamond on a delicate gold band, understated but elegant.

He glanced at the ring I’d chosen, his mouth pulling into a line of disapproval. “If I propose with that cheap ring,” he said with a slight sneer, “then my dad will probably think I went broke.”

The assistant looked mildly horrified but kept her composure, discreetly wrapping the extravagant ring in a luxurious velvet box. I bit my lip, suppressing the urge to argue further. His logic, as frustrating as it was, made sense.

Once the ring was ready, Lucas held it out to me, his expression almost daring. “Put it on. It has to look like it belongs to you.”

With a reluctant sigh, I unboxed and slipped the ring onto my finger, feeling its strange, almost absurdly heavy weight. The diamond scattered flecks of brilliance across my hand, and I swallowed, fighting the odd knot in my chest. It was beautiful—far too beautiful for a fake engagement.

He smirked, clearly noticing my reaction. “You’ll get used to it.”

I shot him a glare, but he was already striding out of the boutique, his air of authority unbroken. I quickly followed, fighting the urge to fidget with the ring. My hand felt foreign with it on, but there was no time to dwell on the strangeness of it all.

We headed to the waiting car, and Derrick, opened the door. As I settled in beside Lucas, he reached over, lightly taking my hand as if he were adjusting the ring, his thumb brushing my knuckles. I glanced up, surprised by the sudden tenderness in his gaze.

“You’re nervous,” he murmured, his voice soft enough for only me to hear. “Relax.”

The unexpected sweetness in his tone softened my nerves a bit, and I nodded, taking a slow breath as I tried to ease into the role. Lucas kept my hand in his, a gesture that felt steadying and…oddly comforting.

The drive to his father’s penthouse passed in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the occasional squeeze of his hand, as if he were reminding me to stay grounded. When we finally arrived at the towering glass high-rise, Derrick led us through a private entrance and into the elevator.

“Nervous?” Lucas asked again as the elevator began to rise, though now there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

I forced myself to hold his gaze, willing my voice to sound steady. “Not at all. Just hoping you’ve prepared me enough for your father.”

He arched an eyebrow, the smirk tugging at his lips. “Sienna, you’ll be fine. Just stick with me. If I didn’t think you could handle it, you wouldn’t be here.”

The elevator chimed as we reached the penthouse. I took a steadying breath, my eyes widening as we stepped into the expansive space. The penthouse was a study in understated luxury: warm, muted colors, floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a breathtaking view of Bellmore’s glittering skyline, and elegant, high-end decor that spoke volumes of CEO Jones’s wealth and influence.

A tall, silver-haired man stood by the window, his back to us. He turned as we entered, his sharp blue eyes assessing me with a quiet intensity that sent a chill down my spine. CEO Richard Jones, Lucas’s father. The man was every bit as commanding as I’d imagined.

“Lucas,” he greeted, his voice a deep, gravelly baritone that demanded attention.

“Father.” Lucas’s tone was warm, almost reverent. “This is Selena.”

"My woman." He added and I felt my heart flutter at his words and the tenderness in them.

Mr. Jones’s gaze shifted to me, and I took a careful breath, extending my hand as his eyes swept over me with a look that felt like he was peeling back layers.

“Selena,” he said in a low, thoughtful voice. His handshake was firm but respectful, and he gave a slight nod as if appraising something valuable. “Lucas has told me quite a bit about you.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Jones,” I replied with a warm smile, willing myself to stay calm as he held my gaze.

“Welcome, just call me Richard. It feels a little more comfortable that way,” he said with a warm smile, his face softening as he glanced between us.

" Let's have dinner, " he added, gesturing for us to sit at the large dining table set up in the adjoining room, which was already prepared for dinner. Soft lighting from the chandelier above cast a cozy glow over the table, which was laden with an array of dishes that looked fit for a feast. Derrick entered taking his seat, followed by two maids, each carrying additional platters, and placed them with practiced grace.

Lucas led me to my seat beside him, keeping his hand on my lower back as we settled in. It was a small touch, yet comforting, and I found myself leaning into his warmth just a little.

As dinner began, Richard took a sip of his wine, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of his glass.

“So, Selena,” he began, leaning back slightly as he studied me. “Lucas tells me you’re a model from Canada.”

I glanced at Lucas, who gave me an encouraging nod. “Yes,” I said smoothly, careful to project the elegance of the role I was playing. “I’m here for a series of shows, but I extended my stay for Lucas.”

Richard raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at his son. “And how did you two meet?”

There was a twinkle in his gaze, as if he were testing us, waiting to see how we would handle the question. Before I could respond, Lucas leaned forward, his hand covering mine on the table. His thumb brushed over my knuckles in a gentle caress, and he smiled, that warm smile reaching his eyes.

“It was…unexpected,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “We met by chance. I guess you could say it was fate.”

For a moment, Richard just watched us, his gaze lingering on the way Lucas held my hand. Then he nodded, a pleased smile softening his features.

“It’s rare to hear you speak of anything with such conviction, Lucas,” he said, his voice quieter, more contemplative.

“I was beginning to think you’d given up on love altogether.”

A shadow flickered across Lucas’s face, something almost vulnerable, before he masked it with a polite smile. “People change, Father. Even me.”

I couldn’t help but smile, marveling at the ease with which Lucas spun his lies, every word flowing like he had rehearsed it. Caught up in the performance, I reached for the lemonade pitcher and poured two glasses, one for myself and one for Lucas, hoping to add to the effect of our “chemistry.”

“Drink up, babe,” I said playfully, handing him a glass with a wink. “Remember how much you loved that last one I made for you?”

The words were barely out of my mouth when Lucas’s eyes flashed. His fingers tightened around my hand, a silent warning, and I felt my face flush as I caught the faintest smirk on Mr. Jones’s face.

Richard leaned forward, his gaze keen.

“Interesting… I thought you two had been together since two years?” His tone was smooth, but there was a flicker of amusement behind his words.

"How come you didn’t know Lucas is severely allergic to lemons?”

My stomach dropped. Oh no, I’d messed up.