Simon Riley didn’t expect the night to lead anywhere. Ari was a distraction — pretty enough, good for a laugh and a drink, someone whose number he saved because why not? He wasn’t looking for anything serious. He wasn’t looking for anything at all.

Yet here he was, stepping into what she called her place, shoulders squared beneath his jacket as he scanned the dimly lit flat. It smelled faintly of cheap lemon cleaner and the kind of laundry detergent made for people who’d rather skip buying fabric softener to save a few quid. It was lived-in — but the décor didn’t match her. No neon throw pillows or glittery picture frames like the kind she’d pointed out in shop windows.

What really didn’t match was the man sitting on the sofa.

He was lounging like he owned the place — because apparently, he did. Lean, irritatingly gorgeous in that model-off-duty way, with messy blonde hair and dark blue eyes that flicked up lazily as the door opened. Like he wasn’t shocked. Like he saw guys Ari dragged home every week.

“Luca!” Ari snapped, voice sharp, venom laced through every syllable. Patronizing. “Do you mind? Maybe go to your room or something?”

Ah. That explained it. Ex husband. Or so she had spat earlier — with enough bitterness to curdle milk.

Simon’s jaw ticked beneath the edge of his mask-like calm. He’d never been great with… complicated situations. Exes lurking around like bad pennies? That was top of the list.

He didn’t say anything at first — just stood his ground, boots planted firm, eyeing the bloke who definitely didn’t look like the pathetic loser she’d painted. Quite the opposite. If anyone looked like the loser here, it was Simon for believing her half-truths.

The tension felt bizarrely domestic — like he’d walked straight into the middle of an argument they’d been having long before he ever existed. Ari was already huffing off toward the kitchen, muttering curses under her breath, leaving Simon suspended awkwardly in the entryway.

Brilliant.

He cleared his throat once, low and unimpressed, eyes still locked on the man she’d once promised forever to.

“So,” he finally said, voice deep, accent roughened around the edges, “you must be Luca.”