Page 66 of Masked Hearts

“Ti voglio bene, fratello.”

“I love you, too,” I reply.

“Awh, this is adorable,” a voice says, cutting the moment short.

“I thought they were trying to strangle each other.” I hear Theá’s voice and suddenly my entire body stiffens as I take in her outfit.

She’s in a mini skirt with a simple black top and those godforsaken Dr. Martens from the first day I met her.

“So what time is the concert?” I quip.

“Well, I was thinking we could head out for lunch and then head over to the stadium.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ambrose agrees as I nod.

“Let me change,” I say, gesturing for everyone to move inside. As Theá turns around, I notice that her top is completely backless, and I have to swallow the lump that forms in my throat as I spot the yellow bow in her hair.

Maybe Ambrose is right. I am getting distracted, but I don’t entirely mind.

Chapter twenty-four

Theá

StateLouisisalot bigger than I imagined, and I quickly realise that I don’t know just how big of a deal Natalia actually is.

“So how long has Nat been singing and performing?” I ask Valerie as security guides us to the box seats we’ll be sitting in for the concert.

“For as long as I’ve known her, which is basically forever. My papá made her enter a singing competition when she was nineteen, and that’s where she signed her first record deal. It’s been full steam ahead ever since.”

“That’s so cool! I’m so excited to see her perform.”

“Apparently it’s a sold-out show, so it should be a good one.” Valerie smiles at me.

Ambrose joins her side as we arrive in the hospitality area just behind our seats, and I take it as my cue to leave them alone.

The hospitality area is filled with anything and everything you could ever dream of, the perfect excuse to not miss a single moment of the concert. A part of me knows normal people don’t get to experience a concert this way, and I find myself wishing I could experience it in the crowd first before getting used to this. But then again, billionaires don’t strike me as the crowd type.

Our seats have a perfect view of the stage, as well as of the rest of the stadium.

I feel a presence behind me, and it doesn’t take me much effort to figure out who it is since he comes to stand next to me.

“You look stunning,” he says.

We haven’t spoken more than four words to each other since this morning, and the tension would be suffocating if it wasn’t for Valerie being able to talk enough for all of us.

I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of him, either. He’s in what I’ve deemed his normal people clothing—because it’s the polar opposite of his usual business casual. He’s wearing a pair of black cargo pants, a black Luminoso Moda t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, that puts his well-sculpted biceps on display, along with a backwards cap that barely contains all of his curls.

He looks like he walked straight out of any woman’s fantasy—specifically mine. He looks relaxed for the first time since I met him, and I surmise it might have something to do with the little chat he and Ambrose had on the balcony.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Perfect.”

A smirk creeps onto his face, and it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see his usual sunshine persona since last night.

“I know this isn’t the place to talk, but I just wanted to say sorry for what happened last night. I didn’t handle it correctly and I didn’t even consider how it may make you feel. There’s more that I want to say, but I’ll save it for when we’re at home.”

Home. He says it so casually, like that penthouse apartment has been ours for years.

“I look forward to hearing it. Until then, and for the sake of tonight, I’ll accept your apology. But depending on what you say later, I might reconsider,” I say, and he nods slowly.

---