Chapter 4
The first time I stepped into that ridiculously huge villa, I met Lucas.
He was dressed in a perfectly pressed shirt, gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his voice soft and polite, and even his smile was always perfectly measured—never out of place.
Everyone said, "Now that's what a real Sterling heir should look like."
I couldn't do that, and honestly, I didn't even want to try.
Anyway, nobody really cared.
Until I heard she was back in the country.
I heard she went to that engagement party, stood there while all those phonies threw fake compliments laced with shade her way, and she didn't even flinch, not a single frown the whole time.
Then I heard she was getting set up with guys, and Luca was actually on her list.
I slammed the glass in my hand, shattering it.
The shards flew everywhere, just like all those pent-up feelings inside me—bursting out all at once.
Why the hell did he get to be on her list? I thought, furious.
Seriously, did a guy like Lucas even deserve her? I thought, my blood boiling.
He was so fake—always scheming, always playing angles, never did anything unless he was sure it would benefit him.
Just as I expected, the second I said I was going after her, Lucas chickened out.
A real heir and a fake one competing for a girl? He was probably scared to death of causing a scandal and ruining his "perfect" reputation. I thought, a smirk creeping onto my face.
He was never truly genuine with her.
Even someone like him got a chance...
So why not me?
So I showed up outside her office.
Of course, she doesn't remember that messed-up kid she once saw.
Fine by me.
We could get to know each other all over again.
Even if she refused, even if she thought I was just acting on impulse or trying to compete with Lucas.
It was fine.
I had all the time in the world to spend a lifetime with her.
The motorcycle shot into a pitch-black alley, and I slammed the brakes hard.
The tires let out an ear-splitting screech against the rough concrete, kicking up a cloud of dust.
I yank off my helmet, breathing in the air thick with gasoline and mildew.
She could only be mine.
Orion started showing up every single day.
At 7:30 sharp, he'd be waiting downstairs at my apartment, always armed with a different breakfast.
On Mondays, it was bread and milk. Tuesdays, noodles. Wednesdays, pancakes.
When I refused to take the food, he'd just hand it off to some random old folks passing by, then hop on his tricked-out motorcycle and follow me all the way to the office, like my personal bodyguard.
At noon, the delivery guy would always show up right on time with a deluxe lunchbox, and there'd be a handwritten card, scribbled like a kid: "Hey, don't forget to eat, big sis!"
When I had to work late, he'd hang out in the lobby lounge, clutching a book called "Corporate Financing and Mergers & Acquisitions," his brows furrowed like he was wrestling with some impossible problem.
One time, I came downstairs at 1 AM and found him asleep on the couch, the book lying on the carpet, his phone screen dim but still stuck on a search: "She doesn't lack love—she just needs someone who understands her."
The receptionist leaned in and whispered, "Ms. Vance, that Orion... he's actually pretty devoted."
I caught the gossipy glint in her eyes and just gave a noncommittal shrug, neither confirming nor denying anything.
Devoted?
I thought it was just a young man's unwillingness to let go, wasn't it?
He couldn't accept being overshadowed by Emmett, couldn't stand always living under the label of the "fake heir."
He grabbed the motorcycle, claimed the turf, and now he's trying to win over a person—it was all part of the same pattern.
So when my parents started calling more and more often, pressuring me to get married, and my grandpa began dropping hints about "when I'd bring someone home to meet him,"
I looked out the window at that familiar figure downstairs and suddenly thought that maybe this is the solution.
On Friday night, Orion was waiting in the lobby as usual.
I walked over and stopped right in front of him.
He jumped to his feet, and the book in his hand hit the floor with a loud thud.
"Orion, let's be together," I said.
He froze, completely stunned.
After a few seconds, his Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes sparkled. "Really?"
I was a little surprised, but I tried to sound like I was just negotiating a deal.
"My parents are on my case, and you need a reason to go head-to-head with Emmett. It's mutually beneficial. What do you think?" I said.
The light hit his face, and I caught the subtle narrowing of his eyes, his jaw clenching for a moment before relaxing.
Finally, he flashed a cocky grin and folded his arms, acting like he owned the place.
"Fine. It wasn't like I had anything better to do anyway, little master that I was," he said.
But when he bent down to pick up the book, his hand was shaking just a bit.
Once the words were out, that was it.
I turned away, acting like I didn't see anything.
The elevator went down, and our shadows showed up in the mirrored walls.
He was just half a step behind me, head lowered, his hair covering his eyes.
He suddenly spoke up as we were almost at our floor, "Hey, can I ask you out for dinner tomorrow?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"How about a movie?" he added.
"We'll see," I said.
"Then...can I hold your hand?" he said again.
The elevator dinged as we reached the garage.
The doors opened. I didn't answer, just walked straight out.
"Let's set the contract for three months, for now," I said, turning to face him.
"During that time, we stay out of each other's personal business, but we play the couple in public. If after three months neither of us feels it's working, we call it quits—no hard feelings. Any objections?" I said.