The sun filtered softly through Sarah's bedroom window, casting long golden streaks across the floor. For once, there was no beeping alarm forcing her to face the day. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, curled up in the middle of her bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling.
Her phone rested on her chest, buzzing now and then with messages she had no interest in reading. Adam had texted her a dozen times after yesterday's disastrous scene at the café. Each message was either an angry outburst or a half-hearted apology, but Sarah had muted him long before she could decide whether to feel guilty, annoyed, or relieved.
Sent home. Those words still stung.
Mr. Roland had never been particularly harsh as a boss, but the disapproving look on his face when he'd said, "Go home, Sarah. You're done for the day," felt like a slap. Even though she knew none of what happened was really her fault—Adam's behavior, Luca's... unexpected intervention—it had all fallen squarely on her shoulders.
And that kiss.
Sarah groaned and buried her face in the pillow, trying to block out the memory. She'd spent half the night reliving the moment. Not the embarrassment or the confusion afterward, but the kiss itself. The confidence in Luca's touch, the effortless way he'd pulled her close. She felt heat creep into her cheeks just thinking about it.
"Stop it," she mumbled to herself.
After a moment, she dragged herself out of bed, shuffled into the kitchen, and grabbed a bowl of cereal. She plopped onto the couch with the bowl in one hand and the remote in the other, flipping through channels aimlessly. Cartoons, talk shows, endless news cycles. Nothing held her attention for more than a second.
She set the bowl on the coffee table, propped her feet up, and turned to the far more familiar comfort of her phone. Social media was her go-to distraction when she needed to zone out, though today, scrolling through perfectly filtered pictures of strangers wasn't helping.
Her finger paused as she swiped past a headline in bold red letters. Her brain barely registered what she'd seen, but instinct made her scroll back up.
She froze.
It was a blurry photo, but there was no mistaking it. The grainy image showed her standing behind the counter at The Corner Bean, her café uniform unmistakable. The scene was burned into her memory—Luca leaning in, his hand gently resting at her back, his lips brushing hers.
Sarah's heart hammered in her chest as she stared at the headline beneath the picture:
"BILLIONAIRE CEO LUCA ROSSI SPOTTED KISSING CAFÉ EMPLOYEE IN SHOCKING PUBLIC DISPLAY."
She blinked, sure her eyes were deceiving her. She clicked on the post, and a new wave of shock slammed into her.
The caption read:
"Luca Rossi, elusive CEO of Rossi Enterprises, caught getting cozy with an unknown café employee yesterday morning. Has the infamous billionaire finally found love? Sources say the woman remains unidentified, but we'll keep you updated as the story unfolds!"
Sarah's blood ran cold.
"Billionaire CEO?" she whispered, her voice cracking. She stared at the words, the screen glowing in her trembling hands. Luca. Billionaire. CEO. It didn't make sense. The Luca she knew—quiet, observant, always appearing in his neatly pressed shirts and taking his coffee black—was *that* Luca? The kind of man who ended up on gossip blogs? The kind of man with so much money he probably could've bought The Corner Bean without blinking?
Her phone buzzed in her hand, jolting her from her spiraling thoughts. It was a message from her friend Chloe.
Chloe: "IS THAT YOU KISSING LUCA ROSSI??? Girl, you better spill the tea NOW!!!"
Sarah dropped her phone as if it had burned her and buried her face in her hands. "This isn't happening. This cannot be happening."
But it was happening. Her phone lit up with more messages—notifications pinging relentlessly as if the world had suddenly realized she existed. There were texts from friends she hadn't spoken to in years, classmates, even a message from her cousin asking, "Are you famous now??"
The worst part was that her own name wasn't even in the story. To everyone on the internet, she was just "the unidentified employee." A blurry girl kissing Luca Rossi.
---
An hour passed before Sarah could summon the courage to look at her phone again. She'd tried to lose herself in the TV—anything to distract her—but nothing worked. The news segment playing in the background only made it worse.
"…Luca Rossi, the reclusive billionaire CEO of Rossi Enterprises, was spotted at a local café yesterday morning, stirring up rumors about a possible new romance," the anchor announced cheerfully. "The unidentified woman in the photo has yet to come forward, but fans are already speculating about who she might be. Rossi, known for keeping his personal life strictly private, hasn't commented."
Sarah groaned, pulling her knees up to her chest as she glared at the screen. "Great. I'm gossip fodder now."
As if her day couldn't get worse, there was a knock at her door.
"Sarah! Open up!" The voice was unmistakable. Adam.
Sarah's stomach dropped. "Not now," she muttered to herself, staying rooted to the couch. She'd ignored all his texts since yesterday, and now he'd clearly decided to show up in person.
"Sarah, I know you're in there!" Adam's voice grew sharper, angrier. He banged on the door again. "Are you serious right now? You're just gonna ignore me after yesterday?"
Sarah's heart pounded. She didn't want to deal with him—not today. But Adam had always been persistent.
"Sarah, I saw the photo. You've got some explaining to do!"
That made her snap to attention. Adam saw the photo?
She stood abruptly, throwing her phone onto the couch, and marched to the door. She cracked it open just enough to face him. Adam stood there in his usual bad-boy uniform—leather jacket, scuffed boots, and a scowl that sent a chill through her.
"What do you want, Adam?" she asked, her voice as steady as she could manage.
"What do I want?" Adam laughed bitterly. "I want to know why my girlfriend is all over the internet kissing some rich guy like she's in a damn movie."
"Your girlfriend?" Sarah shot back, anger bubbling to the surface. "You've got a funny way of treating me like one."
Adam ignored the jab. "Who is he, Sarah? Huh? You think you're better than me now? Is that it? You've been sneaking around behind my back with—what—some billionaire?!"
"I haven't been sneaking around," Sarah snapped. "And Luca isn't—" She stopped herself. She didn't even know what Luca was. "This is none of your business, Adam."
"None of my—?!" Adam's face turned red, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You're embarrassing me, Sarah. All my friends saw the photo. Do you know how that makes me look?"
Sarah felt a spark of disbelief. "This isn't about you, Adam! You're unbelievable."
"You're unbelievable," he shot back, jabbing a finger at her. "You've got two seconds to explain yourself, or we're done."
"Good," Sarah said coldly. "We *are* done."
For the first time, Adam seemed to falter. "What?"
"You heard me." Sarah's voice was steady, surprising even herself. "We're done. I'm tired of this—of you. Now leave."
Adam stared at her, stunned into silence, before scoffing bitterly. "You'll regret this, Sarah."
He turned on his heel and stalked away down the hallway. Sarah slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her heart pounding. A strange sense of relief washed over her—like a weight had been lifted.
---
Hours later, Sarah still couldn't shake the gnawing questions in her mind. Why didn't Luca tell me? Why was he even in the café to begin with? The photo, the kiss, the headline—it all felt like something out of a ridiculous drama, except it was her life.
Her phone buzzed with another notification. This time, it was a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: "Are you okay? – Luca"
Sarah stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. She didn't know how he'd gotten her number, but she didn't care.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back.
"Why didn't you tell me who you are?"
A response came almost instantly.
Luca: "I didn't think it mattered."
Sarah exhaled sharply, the words making her head spin. Of course it mattered. How could it *not* matter?
But part of her couldn't help but wonder… why did Luca Rossi, billionaire CEO, care if she was okay?