Luca Steele
My meeting was in the wrong building.
Again.
I stood in the lobby of someone else’s firm, holding a briefcase I didn’t even need, staring at a receptionist who looked at me like I was the problem.
“Mr. Steele,” she said cautiously, “you’re not scheduled here until next week.”
No shit.
I clenched my jaw, nodded stiffly, and turned on my heel. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust myself to speak without snapping.
This was the third scheduling disaster this week.
Since Penny got fired—by Nova—I hadn’t hired a new secretary yet. I figured someone from admin would jump in. Or maybe Penny had preloaded everything into my calendar before she left.
But nope.
Turns out, Nova had been the one still organizing everything. I didn’t even realize it. The meetings. The emails. The lunch orders. The client reminders. The perfect timing.
Nova did it all.
And now that she was gone? Everything was falling apart. Including me.
It was weird, honestly. How well she knew me. How seamlessly she blended into my world. How she made things function. No one else could step in like that. No one else understood how I worked the way she did.
Maybe because she was a CEO herself. Maybe because she had been trained her whole life by her father.
Or maybe because…
Because she cared.
I sat in my office later that afternoon, staring at my calendar, now completely rearranged, half of it blank, the other half double-booked.
It looked just like me—organized on the surface, but an absolute mess when you looked close enough.
And I couldn’t take it anymore.
I shut my laptop, stood up, and grabbed my coat. I was flying to California. I didn’t care if she didn’t want to see me. I didn’t care if she threw me out.
I needed to fix this.
Fix us.
Even if all I left with was closure.
I booked the private jet in fifteen minutes. It was already on standby.
And by the time I got on board, I was going over every word I’d say to her in my head. I didn’t want to make a mistake again. I didn’t want to let my ego or pride talk this time.
I wanted to apologize.
I landed in California in under six hours. Her city. Her territory. Her world.
The air was warmer. Easier. But I felt more nervous than I ever had in a boardroom.
I drove straight to her office building, my fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. When I walked in, I made a beeline for the front desk.
The receptionist looked up, surprised.
“I’m looking for Nova Kingsley,” I said. “I’m Luca Steele.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh. She’s in a boardroom meeting right now—Conference Room B.”
“Can I wait?” I asked.
She hesitated. “You can go knock, if you like. It’s a strategy meeting with the board.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
My heart was racing.
I walked through the glass hallways, the tapping of my shoes echoing through the corridor. I found the door marked Conference Room B. I paused for a second, staring at it like it might bite me.
Then I opened it. Every head turned. Her head turned.
She was standing near the presentation screen, holding a remote in one hand and her notes in the other. Her hair was down, styled the way she usually did when she needed to feel powerful. Her black blazer was cinched at the waist. She looked like she belonged there.
My wife.
My ex-wife?
No. No. Not if I could help it. Her eyes locked with mine.
“Luca?” she said, startled.
30
