Chapter 8

THE TEAM DINNER

~LAUREN'S POV~

The resort's private dining room was breathtaking—vaulted ceilings, chandeliers sparkling like constellations, and an oak table dressed as if for royalty.

But all I could feel was the pressure pulling tighter with every glance thrown my way.

I took my seat near the middle, where I could feel the weight of everyone's attention without making it obvious. Across from me, Lilac and Fatimah exchanged smirks like they had some private joke at my expense.

Rosette sat at the head of the table, perfectly poised, her wine glass in hand like a queen surveying her court.

Malcolm was two seats away, barely acknowledging me, but I caught him sneaking glances when no one was looking.

Then there was Patrick.

He was next to Rosette, of course, with that smug look on his face that made my stomach churn. I couldn't believe I'd once been so in love with him, so blind to the man he was.

The room buzzed with quiet conversation and the soft clink of silverware. The aroma of rich food filled the air, but it only added to my nausea.

Rosette's voice cut through the hum like a knife.

"So, Lauren," she said, swirling her wine glass with a slow, deliberate motion, "how are you enjoying the retreat so far?"

Her words were polite enough, but her tone carried an edge that made me instantly defensive.

"It's been fine," I replied evenly, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted.

"Fine?" she echoed, raising one perfectly arched brow. "With Alexandro Castello around, I would think it's been more than fine."

The table fell silent. Everyone turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and judgment. My cheeks burned, but I refused to look away.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

Rosette's smile widened, sharp and predatory. "Oh, come on. Don't act coy, Lauren. Everyone's talking about you and him. It's quite the story—" Lauren and the Trillionaire." Almost sounds like a fairytale, doesn't it?"

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"Rosette," Patrick said, his voice hesitant, "maybe—"

"Maybe what?" she snapped, turning to him with a glare that could cut glass. "I'm just curious. Aren't you?"

Patrick leaned back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint smirk. He wasn't going to stop her.

"I don't see how it's any of your business," I said, my voice steady despite the lump forming in my throat.

Lilac let out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, come on, Lauren. You expect us to believe this is real?"

Fatimah leaned forward, her tone dripping with mock concern. "Do you even know who Alexandro Castello is? I mean, let's be honest, Lauren. What could you possibly offer a man like that?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but before I could respond, Lilac chimed in with a wicked grin.

"Maybe he's only after one thing," she said, her gaze sweeping over me.

"You mean her body?" Fatimah said, her voice rising slightly. "That must be it. Because, let's face it, Lauren, you don't exactly have much else to offer."

The table erupted in quiet laughter, their whispers and murmurs blending into a haze of cruelty.

I clenched my fists under the table, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure. My gaze darted to Patrick, silently begging him to say something, to put an end to this.

But when I looked at him, all I saw was that smirk.

It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.

He was enjoying this.

The betrayal cut deeper than anything Lilac or Fatimah could have said. This was the man I had loved, the man I had trusted, and he was sitting there, watching me be humiliated without lifting a finger.

"Patrick," I said quietly, my voice trembling, "are you going to let them talk to me like this?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Lauren, you can't expect me to control what other people say. Besides…" He shrugged, his smirk widening. "They're just being honest."

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

A chorus of murmurs rippled across the table, their judgment pressing down on me like a weight I couldn't escape.

And then, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Am I interrupting?"

The room fell silent.

Every head turned toward the door, and there he was.

Alexandro.

He strode into the room with the kind of confidence that made time seem too slow. The soft click of his shoes on the polished floor was the only sound, his presence commanding every gaze without a word.

His sharp suit hugged his frame perfectly, and his green eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

"Alexandro," Rosette said, her voice faltering slightly.

He didn't even glance at her. His focus was solely on me.

"Lauren," he said warmly, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

Before I could react, he closed the distance between us in a few long strides. He leaned down, brushing his lips against my cheek in a kiss so casual, so intimate, it left me breathless.

And then, to my absolute shock, he pressed another kiss to the side of my neck, his lips lingering just long enough to send a wave of heat through my body.

The room was deathly silent, every pair of eyes glued to us.

"Missed you," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I couldn't speak.

He straightened, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder as he turned to face the table. His expression was cool, and unreadable, but there was a dangerous edge to his smile.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone casual. "I got held up on a call. But I couldn't let Lauren suffer through dinner without me."

Rosette's cheeks flushed a deep red, her usual confidence nowhere to be found.

"We were just talking about you," she said quickly, her voice shaky.

"Were you?" he asked, arching a brow. "All good things, I hope."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Well," he said, his tone light but laced with steel, "I'm sure Lauren has better things to do than entertain baseless gossip. Don't you, sweetheart?"

He looked down at me, his green eyes searching mine.

"Yes," I said, finding my voice. "Yes, I do."

His smile softened, and for the first time all evening, I felt like I could breathe.

"Good," he said, pulling out the chair beside me. "Now, let's enjoy this dinner, shall we?"

The room slowly came back to life, the tension dissipating as everyone scrambled to regain their composure.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Alexandro's sudden appearance had changed the game. And for the first time all evening, I felt like I had the upper hand.