Alessia's POV
The room collectively gasped.
I fought the twitch at my lips, unsure if he was insulting me or—impossibly—defending me. His tone had been calm, unreadable, and frustratingly smooth.
Still, the corner of my mouth betrayed me with a tiny lift as I dared to meet his gaze again.
"That's nice to hear," I said, arching an eyebrow, spearing him with a look that dared accusation. "Someone's clearly developed an appreciation for the cost of female garments. Curious… how that happened."
Shock rippled around the table.
He didn't smile. He didn't even glance up. But the faintest flicker of amusement—so subtle I might have imagined it—danced in his eyes. And somehow, that tiny spark made my heart skip a beat.
Damn him.
Damn that infuriatingly perfect face.
I glared instead, annoyed by how composed he seemed, focused on his meal as though nothing in the world could shake him.
"Can you pass me some water?" a gentle voice cut through, pulling my attention.
I blinked—and nearly forgot how to breathe.
Sitting beside me was an actual angel. Golden hair that caught the light, soft blue eyes framed by lashes that seemed unfairly perfect, and a warm, shy smile that made my chest tighten.
"You're Sophie?" I asked, still blinking.
She nodded, eyes lighting up. "And you're Alessia… my big brother's nemesis."
I choked on air. "Excuse me—what now?"
"Sophie," Adrian's voice came low, tight and warning.
It was the first crack in his perfect composure I'd ever heard. Just that single shift ignited a wildfire of curiosity in me.
I leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Nemesis, huh? So he actually said that? And… what else did he say about me?"
Before Sophie could answer, Adrian's smooth, cutting tone slashed through. "There really isn't much to say, seeing as we haven't spoken since... twelve years ago."
I gasped dramatically, hand to my chest.
"And whose fault is that? Mine?" I rolled my eyes.
He ignored that. "Besides, there really isn't much to say about you."
I gasped dramatically, hand pressed to my heart. "Oh, that's adorable. You still pretend you don't care."
He finally looked at me. His gaze—cold, cutting, and infuriating—met mine. "You mistake indifference for affection. Typical of someone who thrives on attention."
"Wow," I said, widening my eyes. "Big words, Knight. Did you rehearse that in the mirror?"
He set his fork down slowly. "At least I have achievements to talk about."
I scoffed. Dick head!
But I wasn't going to let him win.
"Oh right," I said sweetly, "like the time you tried to race me down the hill and ended up in a pond?"
His jaw tightened, but I saw the faint twitch at the corner of his lips. "You pushed me."
"It was light encouragement."
"It was attempted murder."
"Only if you count splashing as a deadly weapon."
He finally looked up, eyes locking with mine. They were still annoyingly unreasonable, but that corner-of-the-mouth twitch hadn't entirely disappeared.
And just like that, I realized—I might have finally gotten under his skin.
He was about to say something when he was interrupted.
"Enough!"
The word cracked like thunder, two voices booming in perfect unison—our fathers'.
The entire table went silent.
I turned my head. Dad had his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he could physically hold back the headache I knew qI'd just caused. Across from him, Mr. Knight's glare towards Adrian could've melted metal.
"You promised to be civil," Mr. Knight said, every word clipped and heavy with restrained irritation.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, calm once again, and face unreadable. I, on the other hand, felt Dad's stare pierce through my soul.
He didn't even speak. Just shook his head slowly, disappointment radiating off him in waves.
And that hit worse than any lecture could.
Luca's voice echoed in my mind, smug and annoyingly right: If you love Dad, let him have this dinner.
And I had already ruined it.
I couldn't even look at Luca, but I could feel his I-told-you-so smirk from across the table. I made a mental note to kick his ass later out of pure spite.
"Jonathan," Eloise Knight said gently, reaching across to place her hand over her husband's. Her voice was soft, like honey calming a storm. "Don't be so hard on them. They're still young."
Mr. Knight exhaled, his shoulders sagging slightly. "This dinner was supposed to be about establishing the future of both our families. Instead, they've turned it into a playground brawl."
On the other side of the table, Mom didn't even lift her gaze. She just cut a piece of her salmon, focused on her plate like the whole drama unfolding before her was beneath her notice.
Classic.
Dad looked at her, waiting for her to say something. She didn't. The tiny muscle in his jaw tightened before he turned away.
Sometimes I really wondered how those two ever ended up together.
A long, awkward silence hung in the air, until Carl, bless his oblivious soul, piped up.
"So… uh, what was this dinner supposed to be about?"
Sophie perked up instantly, curiosity lighting up her face. "Yes, I was wondering the same thing!"
And that was when I saw it—Carl's face flushing bright red.
Oh no. Oh, no no no.
Was my brother blushing? Because of her?
I blinked, trying to process it. Adrian's sister and my brother? Absolutely not. My brain was already screaming 'This cannot happen.'
Not that I didn't like her. But the thought of having Adrian as my in-law made me wanna puke.
And then, like she'd been waiting for the most chaotic moment to drop a bomb, Mom finally spoke.
"Well," She said smoothly, setting her fork down with the kind of grace that could only mean trouble. "Since everyone's so curious…"
"Luciana—" Dad warned, his tone low, weary.
She ignored him completely. Of course she did. She always did. Even when he needed her the most—when we needed her—she was never there.
Only showing up for Luca.
The thought of it all broke my heart.
"This dinner," she continued, her voice cool and casual.
"Stop," Dad barked.
"...was to announce Alessia and Adrian's engagement."