006~ PULL THAT

Lucas

Awakening from a serene slumber, I was abruptly confronted by the sensation of hot, alcoholic breath. My groggy eyes reluctantly fluttered open to the sight of my brother Jax, comfortably nested beneath my blanket. Astonished by his nocturnal intrusion, I promptly delivered a swift kick, sending him and the duvet sprawling onto the frigid floor.

Unfazed, Jax cocooned himself in the blanket, resuming his slumber as if my awakening were a mere annoyance.

Sighing at the unexpected start to the day, I shuffled to the bathroom, clad only in my boxers. In front of the mirror, I couldn't help but flash a self-satisfied grin, acknowledging the handsomeness that stared back at me. Flexing my muscles, determination surged to maintain my gym routine.

Entering the dining room, an ambience of refined elegance greeted me. Mahogany furniture, crystal chandeliers, and the gentle clink of silverware against china painted the room with sophistication. The grand dinner table hosted pristine white tablecloths, delicate teacups, and a display of aromatic coffee in polished silver carafes.

My father engrossed in a newspaper and perched glasses on his nose, commanded attention at the head of the table. The butler, standing poised beside him, reported an issue, to which my father nodded in response.

"It is a beautiful morning, Lucas," my father remarked, never lifting his gaze from the newspaper.

"Doesn't look it," I retorted, taking a seat. The butler, as composed as ever, presented a tea cup before me and poured a steaming cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Master Lucas," he greeted.

"Thank you," I acknowledged, savouring the rich taste of the coffee.

Nothing beats coffee first thing in the morning.

"How is the new movie?" My father inquired, his eyes sparking with curiosity.

"I've been in touch with the movie's director. He's seriously considering our actors for the main roles," I confidently declared, infusing a touch of triumph into the room. The prospect of clinching such a significant contract stirred a swell of pride within me.

The director, renowned for steering numerous blockbuster hits, presented a golden opportunity. The mere thought of our actors taking centre stage in this cinematic venture not only promised artistic success but also signalled a potential windfall for our agency. It was a high-stakes game that could significantly bolster our income, injecting a thrilling sense of anticipation into the air.

My father's laughter resonated like a familiar melody, harmonizing with the clinking of silverware. Pride sparkled in his eyes as he praised my unexpected responsibility a trait nurtured by the calculated exposure to the industry from an early age.

The room seemed to nod in agreement as my father lauded our agency's international reputation for housing the crème de la crème of talents. Walker Elite Talent, a revered name in the entertainment sphere, had set stringent criteria, ensuring only the best adorned its roster.

"Steer clear of scandals; I don't need your name plastered all over the internet for some alleged rendezvous with an actress. Seems like hooking up is a skill you and Jaxson share," my father warned, the delicate teacup he cradled, adorned with a gold rim, gently finding its place on the table with a subtle clink.

Yeah, we got that from you, old man.

"Last time, it was Jaxson entangled with an actress. The journalist must've had a grudge to drag my name into the spotlight instead," I defended with a smirk, relishing the absurdity of the situation.

The irony lay in the fact that the actress had orchestrated the entire spectacle, desperately trying to latch onto Jaxson's meagre spotlight.

Walker Elite Talent had no patience for such opportunistic antics; our standards were far too high for someone of her calibre to find a place among our elite roster.

Unconvinced, my father, engrossed in his newspaper, dismissed my explanation with a nonchalant air, his scepticism evident in the subtle arch of his eyebrow.

Suddenly, the unexpected interrogation took a turn as he inquired about Aria, catching me off guard and almost causing me to choke on my coffee. Laughter bubbled nervously as I tried to downplay the situation, baffled at how he had stumbled upon the topic.

"Thanks to you, I've heard some interesting stories," he grinned mischievously, adding an intriguing twist to the conversation. The air crackled with curiosity as he prodded me for more details.

"We just met in school, that's all," I replied, attempting to keep it casual.

My father, however, continued the probing, sceptical about the simplicity of my explanation. "So you just happened to bump into her at school, and that's it? If you weren't my son, I might've believed you," he remarked, his gaze piercing through my attempt at nonchalance.

"We were friends."

And we also fucked.

"Sounds made up to me," Cole declared as he strolled into the dining room.

Taking a seat across from me, he wore a challenging expression, as if daring me to deny whatever he had just said. I bit my lip, attempting to conceal a smile. In the game of revelations, it seemed nothing could slip past the keen observation of this two.

Damn it, Aria.

Why was she still angry? I understand her last years weren't a walk in the park, courtesy of Ruby. I even had to call in Cole to deal with the fallout in the media. Yet, here she is, accusing me of incompetence in maintaining a relationship?

Frustration clawed at me, and I ran my hand through my hair habit I seemed to have developed since encountering her last night. The tangled web of emotions left me perplexed, caught between defending myself and deciphering the enigma of her lingering resentment.

"Right, she did mention having a boyfriend." I came to an abrupt halt, my gaze fixated on the blank canvas of the ceiling.

As her words lingered, an unexpected metamorphosis unfolded within me. A subtle unease settled in, a swirling concoction of emotions playing out in the recesses of my consciousness.

Initially, there was a gentle tightening in my chest, a sensation defying easy identification. It became a perplexing blend of curiosity, a hint of disappointment, and an electric charge permeating the air.

This unfamiliar feeling confounded me. Why did her having a boyfriend trigger such a reaction? Was this the way she felt when discovering Ruby's existence? If so, I doubted she would have settled for a simple breakup. At this moment, all I could contemplate was locating her supposed boyfriend and, perhaps impulsively, offering him a check to sever ties with her.

Damn it, Lucas, what's gotten into you?

I sighed, my eyes shifting to Jaxson sprawled out on my bed.

I moved to pull him off when my phone buzzed. Annoyed at being disturbed on a Saturday morning, I glanced at the caller ID, and my mood instantly shifted.

It was my mother. Contemplating whether to ignore her, I hesitated, knowing the consequences of such a decision. Finally, reluctantly, I picked up.

"Do I need to make an appointment with you before I meet you?" Her annoyed voice demanded, cutting through the line.

"I have been busy lately," I lied, attempting to provide some excuse.

"Sleeping around with different women?" The venom in her voice went unnoticed as she accused, revealing a keen awareness of my private life.

"I see you have people watching me." I clenched my fist, irritated by the invasion of my privacy.

"We are having lunch at my place, don't be late." Her words weren't a request; they were an order.

I closed my eyes, taking slow breaths to contain the anger bubbling within me.

"I am busy," I declared, attempting to assert a boundary, a fragment of independence.

Yet, her response hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface—a storm I had hoped to avoid.

"Let's not make this a big deal, Lucas. I don't have the strength to cause a scene," she threatened, her words slicing through the air with a calculated precision.

The unspoken implication of potential consequences added an extra layer of pressure.

In the ensuing silence, I chose not to engage further. My silence became an unintentional agreement, a concession to avoid a confrontation. She interpreted it as compliance and hung up.

Her demands echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the control she asserted over my life. The weight of her expectations pressed down on me, a burden I couldn't easily shake off. Every interaction with her felt like navigating a maze of obligations and disappointments.

The subtle manipulations and the unrelenting demands were a suffocating dance. I yearned for a breath of autonomy, a moment to breathe without the weight of her expectations on my shoulders.

Still, a part of me yearned for her approval.