You didn’t move to Monaco chasing luxury. You came chasing opportunity.

Camila, your best friend, made it sound easy. Her parents bought her a sleek apartment the moment she said she wanted to live here. And since the two of you have been inseparable since childhood, she asked you to come too. You shared secrets, clothes, heartbreaks-and now, an address.

You’ve never pretended to be like her. She never needed to work. You’ve been working since you were fifteen. And now, every morning, you tie your hair back, put on your uniform, and head to the restaurant near the marina. Tourists come and go. Wealthy locals never tip. But you smile anyway, because you’re saving for something bigger than a pair of heels or a vacation. You’re saving for your sister.

She’s twelve. Too smart for the school she’s in. Too fragile for the streets she walks through alone every day. Your mother’s tired. You see it in every video call. She tries to hide it, but the truth is plain—your sister deserves better.

So every tip you earn, every hour you add to your shift, it’s all for one thing: bringing her here.

You haven’t told many people. Not because you’re ashamed—but because most people here wouldn’t understand.

Except Lando.

He noticed you from the beginning. You don’t know why, really. Maybe because you were the only one at the table not trying to impress him. You never drank the overpriced wine, never ordered appetizers, never took selfies.

You just… existed. Quietly. Honestly.

And he saw that.

He’d text you when he was traveling. He liked your sarcasm. Your stories. He asked you questions no one else bothered to. And slowly, you let him see more of you.

Tonight, the group had a reservation at the most extravagant restaurant in Monaco. You made up a reason to skip it. Told them you had to work late. No one questioned it.

Except Lando.

At 10:06 p.m., you step out of the back door of the restaurant. You’re already thinking about your walk home.

Then you see him.

Lando, leaning against his car like he’s been waiting for hours. Your heart trips.

“What… what are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like dinner without you.”

You cross your arms, unsure. “I told you-I had work.”

“Yeah,” he says. “But I also know your restaurant closes at ten.”

You narrow your eyes. “So you checked?”

He smiles, a little sheepishly. “Maybe.”

You sigh, half annoyed, half flattered. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he repeats. Then: “Wanna come with me?”

You don’t answer right away. You glance down at yourself, then back at him. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t care that you’re not dressed up.

“Okay,” you say.

He drives you down to a quiet beach. The kind of place only locals know about. You sit on a blanket, your legs curled under you. He opens the pizza box between you.

“Hungry?” he asks.

You nod. The first bite tastes like peace. For a while, you eat in silence, listening to the waves. Then, he asks it-softly.

“What are you really working so hard for?” You pause. The question sits between you, warm and raw.

“I want to bring my sister here,” you say finally. “She’s still in Brazil. I want her to grow up somewhere safe. Somewhere she doesn’t have to fight so hard.”

Lando doesn’t speak right away. When you finally look up, his gaze is fixed on you-steady, serious.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “I’m just trying.”

“No,” he says. “You’re doing.”

You look at him-really look. And something shifts in your chest.

The silence is comfortable. Real. You don’t have to fill it, and he doesn’t expect you to. Then Lando speaks. Quiet, thoughtful. Like he’s been holding it back the whole time. “You shouldn’t have to carry it all alone.”

You turn toward him, but say nothing. “If there’s a way I can make it easier for you-even just a little-I’d want to.”

Your chest tightens. “Lando…”

“I’m not trying to fix your life,” he says quickly, gently. “I just-look, I don’t care how strong you are. Even strong people deserve a break.”