My jaw clenched. No need to spell it out—he and I were on opposite sides, whether we liked it or not. He might as well have just said, "I'm here to ruin your day."
"Delightful," I shot back, each word dripping with enough sarcasm to cut glass. I wanted him to hear it.
He leaned in, close enough for his cologne to hit me—sharp citrus, so fresh it almost stung. My chest fluttered. I hated that.
"Don't worry," he murmured, dropping his voice, eyes flickering with secrets. "I'll try not to make your life miserable. Not right away, anyway."
I nearly laughed. Seriously, he was already halfway there, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. I just nodded, keeping my face smooth and unreadable. Just Adrian. Just another Ashford, doing what we always did.
We drifted into the main hall, caught up in a current of future power players. The place buzzed—everyone checking everyone else out, alliances forming before anyone even shook hands. No one noticed the silent line being drawn between us. Not yet.
Orientation blurred by. Speech after speech about tradition, about excellence. Handshakes that felt more like cold business deals. Introductions that were all about which family, which city, which legacy. I watched everything—the glances, the subtle shifts, the whispers hidden behind perfect smiles. And always, at the edge of my vision, there he was: Luca, leaning against a column, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like he was already mapping out his next move. He saw me too. I knew it. We circled each other without ever getting close, both of us too stubborn to back down, too sharp to look away.
After all the pomp, they split us into groups for the first big test: a leadership simulation. My team was a cocktail of accents and ambitions—five continents' worth of drive packed into one group. Everyone wanted to prove something. Well, almost everyone.
Luca was in my group.
Of course he was. The universe just loved a joke.
"Looks like we'll be working together," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. His tone was easy, but his eyes never left mine. That smile—God, it promised trouble.
"Yes," I said, keeping my face carefully blank. I ran the words through my mind—don't take it personally, don't let him in. I could handle this. I had to.
We went around the table, names and polished smiles, everyone playing their part. I watched Luca tap his fingers restlessly, looking completely at home and somehow impossible to read. Every move seemed deliberate, but effortless. For a second, it struck me—he was exactly the kind of rival I'd been trained to outsmart. But for once, I wasn't sure if I wanted to beat him, or just figure him out.
The simulation started, and the real game began.