tldr; Rhea Sethi, 34, is a high-end escort who built her name on elegance, discretion, and emotional distance. Originally from a small town in California, she once dreamed of a life filled with dance before tragedy forced her into survival mode. She arrived in Devil’s Junction eight years ago with nothing, slowly carving out her place in the city’s elite circles. Now fiercely independent and unshakeably composed, Rhea lives a quiet, luxurious life—mostly keeping to herself. When she’s not entertaining clients or maintaining her perfect image, she dances alone, drinks her coffee black, and tries not to look over her shoulder.
b i o g r a p h y;
Rhea arrived in Devil's Junction at the age of 26, with little more than a few hundred dollars in her pocket and the quiet determination to reinvent herself. Coming from a small town, she was the eldest of three siblings, tasked with keeping the family together after their father's passing and her mother's emotional breakdown. The weight of responsibility hung heavily on her, and by the time she turned 18, Rhea had realized that her dreams of a peaceful, normal life were slipping away. She worked various odd jobs, but nothing seemed to truly give her the freedom she craved.
A chance encounter with a woman who lived a very different life led Rhea to a path she never imagined. The woman showed her a world where beauty, charm, and discretion could be currency, where she could escape the suffocating confines of her past and make her own choices. With no other option but to survive, Rhea embraced this world, starting at the bottom, offering companionship and elegance to those willing to pay for it.
The beginning was difficult. She was just another face in the crowd—one of many girls who did whatever they could to stay afloat. But Rhea quickly learned that her natural poise, grace, and subtle intelligence set her apart. With time, she climbed the ranks in Devil's Junction’s high society, eventually becoming one of the most sought-after, discreet, and high-priced escorts in the city. Her clients were powerful—businessmen, politicians, celebrities—and each encounter left a mark, but it was always on her terms.
Despite her success, Rhea remains emotionally distant, guarding the parts of her past that haunt her. There’s a sadness in her eyes, a loneliness that even the wealth and glamour of her new life can’t fill. She’s come a long way from the scared girl who arrived in Devil's Junction, but that girl is never truly gone.
Rhea rarely speaks of the family she left behind, and though she may entertain the notion of love, she knows that she’s built a life where true connection might never be an option. Still, there are moments when she wonders if she’s become too hardened, too calculated. Is there room for vulnerability in the life she’s chosen? Or is she too far gone to change?
h e a d c a n o n s ;
She still dances alone late at night, barefoot in her apartment with music low—it's the only time she truly feels like herself.
Her apartment is immaculate and minimalist, with warm lighting, silk curtains, and the faint scent of sandalwood always lingering.
She journals regularly, not about clients or work, but about her dreams, memories, and the version of herself she had to leave behind.
She hates small talk and rarely uses social media—her online presence is carefully curated, almost like she doesn’t exist at all.
She has a soft spot for vintage perfumes and handwritten letters, both of which remind her of a gentler time she never really got to live in.
She keeps a locked drawer filled with mementos from her old life—photos, a pair of worn old ghungroos, and a letter she never sent.
Her vice is red wine and late-night classical music, especially after difficult evenings—she finds calm in the ritual.
Despite her composed exterior, she has moments of intense loneliness, wondering if anyone will ever love her without conditions or expectations.
c o n n e c t i o n s ;
A protector-turned-confidant — someone from one of the six families who offers her safety but ends up seeing through her walls. (needs to be plotted)
A forbidden attraction — a client she wasn't supposed to fall for and regrets (not end game type)
A found-family bond — someone, maybe another woman in the city, who becomes like the sister she never had, giving her rare moments of softness and trust.
A therapist or healer figure — someone she sees secretly (or reluctantly) who helps her confront her trauma and past
A ghost from the past — the one who left scars and now wants something from her, driving the tension and forcing her to rely on needing protection.
A wine club buddy - someone who indulges in unwinding with a bottle of red wine and allows Rhea to just be.
A shopping partner - her taste is elite and so she needs someone to match her toe to toe.
Duke's world narrowed to the warmth of her lips against his, everything else—conversations, clinking cups, his own bullshit excuses for keeping distance—just vanishing into nothing. When she pulled back to look at him with those brown eyes that sliced through every wall he'd ever built, he realized he'd been holding his breath like some lovesick teenager. "All in," he repeated, voice coming out rougher than intended, thumb still tracing circles across her knuckles because letting go felt impossible right now. She was asking for everything, the real deal, and Christ he'd been waiting for someone with enough guts to demand that from him longer than he wanted to admit.
"You know what this means though, right?" He leaned closer until their foreheads almost touched, his free hand coming up to brush her cheek. The contact sent heat straight through him, grounding him in the reality of her choosing him despite knowing exactly what kind of chaos he carried. "Full fire, full chaos—that includes all the messy shit, all the nights when I wake up thinking about Chicago, all the times this life gets dangerous and complicated." His fingers traced her jaw, memorizing the feel of her skin under his touch. "Because once we do this, once we're really in it together, there's no pretending we're just two people who happened to meet in an elevator."
She stayed close, her breath trembling as their foreheads almost touched, his words still heavy between them. Full fire, full chaos. It sounded terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and maybe that was why her chest ached the way it did—like she wanted to leap and run in the same breath. Her fingers tightened over his, grounding herself in the way his thumb moved against her knuckles, steady and unrelenting, like he wasn’t afraid of her hesitation. Her gaze flicked down for just a moment before she forced herself to meet his eyes again. “Duke…” she began, her voice softer than she intended, almost like it belonged to someone braver than she felt. “I want that. I do. But you need to understand—I don’t… I don’t always know how to do this right.” Her other hand came up to rest lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, the reminder that he was real, solid, and not the illusion she sometimes convinced herself men like him had to be.
“I’ve spent a lot of time keeping people at arm’s length because it felt safer. Safer for me, safer for them.” A rueful smile tugged at her lips before it faltered. “And even when I let someone close, I can’t help wondering when it’ll all fall apart. When they’ll decide I’m too complicated, too messy, not worth the trouble.” Her throat tightened, but she pushed the words out anyway. “So when you say ‘all in,’ part of me wants to run before you change your mind.” She let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t really laughter at all, just a sound to fill the crack in her voice. “But the other part—the part that kissed you just now—that part wants to believe you mean it. That maybe you’ll be patient when I stumble, when I don’t have the right words, when my fear gets loud.” Her thumb brushed against the back of his hand, small and careful, as if the gesture itself was a promise. “If I’m all in with you, Duke… I need you to be patient with me. To give me the space to figure this out, to trust that I won’t bolt every time it gets hard. I want this. I want you. But I need time to believe that someone like you actually wants to stay.”
The tiger was massive and ridiculous, orange fur practically glowing under the carnival lights, and Duke couldn't help but shake his head as he reached up to claim it from the booth operator who looked genuinely impressed by the force of that swing. "Yeah, well, turns out all that pent-up frustration from you testing me for weeks finally came in handy," he said, turning to face her with the oversized prize tucked under one arm while trying to process what she'd just laid out for him because this wasn't just flirting anymore, this was her actually telling him what she wanted from someone, from him.
She'd been circling around this conversation since they started whatever this was, dropping hints and pulling back, but now she was standing there talking about fire and boundaries and not flinching, and honestly he'd been waiting for her to stop dancing around it and just say what she meant. "You want someone who steps into the fire?" he asked, shifting the tiger to his other arm because the thing was heavier than it looked and he needed to focus on her face, on what she was really asking him. "Then stop acting like I'm gonna run the first time you show me something real, because I've been here through your disappearing acts and your walls and all the times you've tried to scare me off." He stepped closer, close enough that he could see the challenge in her eyes mixed with something that looked almost vulnerable underneath all that confidence. "I'm not going anywhere, so maybe it's time you stopped testing me and started trusting me instead."
She couldn’t help it—her face lit up the second the tiger landed in Duke’s arms. “Are you kidding me? That thing is huge,” she laughed, reaching out to tug one of the oversized stuffed paws like she was half-tempted to try and wrestle it away from him. “Forget fire and boundaries, you just won me a damn circus mascot. That’s the real test of loyalty right there.” Her grin lingered, bright and unguarded, the kind of look she didn’t give out often. For once, the thrill of it wasn’t about chaos or a gamble—it was about the ridiculousness of a man who actually made her feel…safe. But then his words settled in, and the laughter softened into something quieter. Her hand lingered against the tiger’s fur as she tilted her head, studying him.
“You know, most people would’ve taken the easy exit by now. God knows I gave you every chance to.” Her tone wasn’t defensive this time, more like admission. She exhaled slowly, a breath that carried years of habit she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Trust doesn’t come easy for me, Duke. Not when the ground’s shifted out from under me before. But…” She glanced up at him, a small, almost tentative smile tugging at her mouth. “Maybe I’m done testing you. Maybe it’s time I let myself believe you mean it when you say you’re not going anywhere.” She tapped the tiger’s nose with her fingertip, as if to break the heaviness before it settled too deep. “Besides, you’re officially stuck with me now. I’m not letting anyone else carry this monster home.”
Rhea did have a point, Tatiana found joy in making a statement and she for sure wanted to make her wedding an unforgettable night for her and her husband, as well as their guests. “Ugh, thank you so much! I’m slowly realizing how real this is and that I actually need to plan this.” There were so many ideas she had, all tucked away in her journal as well as a digital collage of inspiration on how they should nail the aesthetic. The possibilities were endless and she definitely needed someone like her best friend to support and guide her through it. “Perfect, we’ll make it happen! I know we’re both head strong women, but promise you won’t bail on me just cause I out bitched you? Let’s acknowledge that the stress may get to me and you can gladly call me out on it when I push it too far!”
She then arched a brow out of intrigue after hearing her best friend’s response to meeting her mystery man. “Mmm, we’ll see about that. You already know I won’t hold back.” Feeling her nerves ease on its own, she nodded confidently as she knew her and Rhea were able to pull this off. "Absolutely and I shall drink to that!" Lifting her glass of mimosa to her lips, she happily sipped and felt better knowing that she didn't have to plan this on her own.
She leaned back slightly, savouring the warmth of the sun filtering through the café window and the comforting clink of her glass against Tatiana’s. She let herself smile fully, the kind of easy, genuine grin that only came around people you trusted completely. “Headstrong, dramatic, and totally unafraid to ruffle a few feathers? Honestly, Tati, that’s exactly why you’re going to nail this wedding,” she said, voice playful but sincere. “And you know I wouldn’t miss being by your side for a second of it. Stress, meltdowns, diva moments—you name it, I’ve got your back. Promise I won’t bail… though I make no guarantees about a well-timed eye roll here or there.” She let out a soft laugh, taking another sip of her mimosa as she leaned in slightly across the table. “Planning a wedding isn’t just about flowers and centrepieces, it’s about making memories, and we’re going to make sure every second is unforgettable. You’ll have the moments that make you feel like a queen, the little victories that make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, and yeah… maybe a few moments where you want to strangle me—but I’ll be right there with you anyway.”
Her gaze softened, turning thoughtful for just a second before the teasing returned. “And about this mystery man of yours… I’ll keep my poker face, don’t worry. But you know me—I’m not above testing him a little, making sure he earns a proper first impression. Don’t worry, though—I promise not to scare him off too quickly. We’ve got this, Tati. The wedding of the year? Yeah, we’re going to make it legendary. Everyone will talk about it for years, and we’ll be the ones laughing the hardest, reliving all the chaos and brilliance we made happen.” She finally leaned back, letting the words settle between them, her grin returning, full of warmth and excitement. “So… let’s get planning. Champagne mimosas in one hand, wedding vision in the other, and maybe a little bit of controlled chaos sprinkled on top—just how we like it.”
Some days it still catches her off guard how much she’s stopped bracing for impact. “It’s not as complicated as I thought it’d be,” Violeta says, letting it come out easy. “I used to think I’d get restless if things slowed down, but lately? I’m good with the quiet. Not every day, obviously. I still need the nights that get a little out of hand.” She knows she’s been leaning into both without overthinking it, which is new for her. The balance isn’t perfect, but it’s holding. “Christian’s the type who can be at a table with me all night or disappear into a crowd and I’m fine either way. That’s made it easier to stop chasing the next big hit of chaos just to feel alive.” She glances toward Rhea with a knowing look. “And I think you get that. You’ve got Duke for the wild and the steady, even if you won’t say it out loud yet.” She pushes her chair back slightly, a flicker of decision in her tone. “Speaking of wild… I’ve got an invite for something tonight. Not the usual scene. You in? Could be the perfect way to test how well we’re both handling this balance.”
Rhea let out a soft laugh, shaking her head with that easy, half-amused smile that always seemed to land between them. “You know me too well,” she said, leaning back just enough to let the words settle. “Duke’s chaos and my love of a little fire—yeah, I’m not exactly practicing restraint. But…that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the quiet too. I get it, Violeta. I really do.” Her gaze lingered on her friend, warm and steady. “And tonight? Count me in. Let’s see if we can handle the wild without tipping the balance too far—though I make no promises we won’t crash spectacularly and have the best time doing it.” She raised her coffee cup in a mock salute. “Balance or not, we’ve earned a little chaos on our own terms.”
"He does, kid's got this habit of showing up whenever he needs someone to teach him how to fix his bike or wants to hear stories about Chicago," Duke said, his fingers tightening around hers as she traced those circles on his skin that made him forget they were sitting in public. "And you're right, standing in the shadows got us nowhere except watching everyone else live while we stayed safe on the sidelines." She nailed it, because he wanted the same thing, a real relationship, instead of something with an escape plan.
"Done with lonely sounds about right," he said, his voice dropping lower as she leaned closer and he could see that fierce look in her eyes that meant she was done playing games. "You want me to jump in with you, no half-measures, no running back to safe ground when things get messy." He moved his thumb across her knuckles again, grounding himself to this moment where she was asking him to risk everything he'd built his walls to protect. "Yeah, I'm in, completely in, because watching you burn everything down from the sidelines was never going to be enough anyway." The coffee shop noise faded around them as he matched her intensity, leaning closer until there was barely any space left between them—this was it, the moment where they stopped pretending this wasn't exactly what they both wanted.
She let out a soft, deliberate breath, her gaze locked on his. Her fingers tightened around his hand, a grounding tether in the middle of the noise that no longer seemed to matter. “I get it,” she said, her voice low, steady, but carrying the weight of everything she meant. “I see him, the kid, and it’s not just about showing up for chores or stories about Chicago—it’s about being present, showing care without needing a medal or a thank-you. That’s the kind of man I want in my corner…someone who doesn’t run, doesn’t hide, and doesn’t treat people like props in his story.” Her thumb traced the back of his hand, slow, intimate. Of course she too wanted to hear his stories about Chicago but now wasn't the time. This coffee shop also wasn't the place for it. “And yeah…standing in the shadows? Watching from the sidelines? That’s not living. It’s just existing. Done with lonely sounds exactly right.” She leaned in closer, letting her forehead brush his, her eyes glimmering with fire and something softer underneath. “I don’t want half-measures, Duke. I don’t want anyone who flinches at chaos, or at me. I want…this,” she murmured, letting her lips hover against his before pressing them firmly in a kiss that said everything words couldn’t. Pulling back just enough to let her gaze meet his, she whispered, “All in. No running, no safe ground. You, me…us. Full chaos, full fire, full story.” Her hand lingered over his, the warmth and intent undeniable, the unspoken promise clear—this was it. They were done pretending.
"Keeping up with you has been the challenge since day one," Duke said, watching her move toward the hammer game while trying not to focus on how she kept touching him and then pulling away like she was testing his reactions. "And yeah, I'll swing that hammer, but you're talking about going all in and not running from fire like this is some kind of relationship interview disguised as carnival games." This time, her words were a game changer since she wasn't just flirting, she was being direct about what she wanted from him, and he'd been waiting for this convo since things started between them.
The part about her trying knife throwing made him shake his head because of course she would want to throw sharp objects while he was trying to focus on impressing her. "You want someone who doesn't run?" he asked, stepping up to the game booth and picking up the oversized hammer while the carnival worker explained the rules he wasn't really listening to. "Then stop testing me and tell me what you actually want, because I've been here since that first night in the alley and I'm not going anywhere." He hefted the hammer, and slammed it down. "But if you're planning on juggling knives tonight, I'm definitely gonna need that giant stuffed tiger to hide behind."
She turned, letting her hand brush lightly against his arm as she leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Careful, Duke,” she murmured, tilting her head just slightly so he could see the look in her eyes, “you’ve been keeping up just fine… but let’s be honest—you’ve never met someone who actually wants you to try.” Her gaze flicked toward the hammer game, then back at him, daring. “I want someone who sees the fire, feels it, and decides to step into it anyway. Someone who doesn’t flinch when things get sharp or chaotic—or when I start testing boundaries.” She gestured toward the target, her thumb sweeping over the plush toys stacked high. “That tiger? It’s just the beginning. You want to impress me? Then swing with everything you’ve got… and maybe try not to break your ego in the process.”
Her fingers lingered on his arm, a gentle but deliberate pressure, grounding him. “I need someone who’s actually going to play the game—messy, risky, all of it—and still keep up with me.” She gave a sly, dangerous smile. “Think you’re up for it?” Then Rhea watched as he slammed the hammer down, clearly hitting it harder than anyone so far because the entire thing seemed to light up with noise and colour declaring him a winner. "Well would you look at that, turns out you do deliver on your promises."
"You're not wrong there. Ford does have a tendency to pop up on my mind. I honestly thought that's because we're such close friends though. Apparently there's more to it." Hae-Rin said, setting her glass down because she needed to actually process what Rhea was telling her about stepping into the light with everything exposed. "I keep thinking about all those times he just appeared when I needed someone and I never questioned why he kept doing that." Maybe she'd been too scared to look too closely at why Ford always seemed to know when she was falling apart, why he never made her feel like she was asking for too much when she called him at weird hours or showed up at his place looking like a disaster. "But this whole no running back to just friends thing is what's making me lose my mind because what if I mess this up and lose him completely?" She'd never been good at the vulnerable thing, never been great at letting people see her when she wasn't put together, but Ford had somehow slipped past all her defenses without her even noticing. The marriage certificate felt like jumping off a cliff without knowing if there was water below—except maybe Ford had been the water all along and she was just too stubborn to see it. "I guess I'm terrified that I'm not brave enough for this kind of love but also terrified of not trying."
In parts Rhea could understand why Hae-Rin had been adamant to think her feelings towards Ford were strictly platonic or just friendship based, especially when they were such close friends. But it was nice to see the other woman so receptive now to where that relationship was developing. "That's exactly it, he's proven himself.." she paused with a smile before taking a sip from her own drink. "Honestly I don't know Ford very well, but I do know you and I think if you both give your truest emotion--you might be able to make it work, beyond friendship and instead of losing it--you'll only enhance your bond further, you know what I mean?" She smiled at the other before nodding at the other's confession. "Being scared isn't necessarily a bad thing Hae-Rin, if anything it shows both of you just how meaningful your bond is, and that's why it's taken a bit longer to get here. Give it a try--I'm sure you won't regret jumping off the deep end." It was amusing that Rhea Sethi was giving this advice seeing as she ran 100 miles away from anything remotely similar to the emotion of love, choosing to deal in anything else transactionally, and never letting herself become vulnerable.
jesse stared at the drink he'd ordered and allowed it to sit on the table for a few moments as she spoke. "yeah, aarti. she's a pain in my ass." he sighed and even though she was, he couldn't bring himself to completely avoid her. he still came around prohibition pete's and he still talked to her, even if he shouldn't. it was almost like, deep down, he liked getting under her skin. "that doesn't mean i like arguing with her." that wasn't completely true but he wouldn't admit that to himself, let alone out loud. he inhaled a deep breath, considering her words as he looked back up at her, "maybe you're right. it's got to be some sort of a win if she's not completely ignoring me."
She arched a brow, swirling the straw in her drink like she was stirring up trouble. “Oh, please,” she said, lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “You absolutely like arguing with her. Don’t give me that ‘pain in my ass’ routine—you wouldn’t keep coming back if you didn’t get something out of it.” She tilted her head, studying him with the kind of look that made it clear she was already two steps ahead in whatever game he thought he was playing. “Aarti doesn’t waste her breath on people she doesn’t care about. Trust me, I know. If she’s engaging, it means you’ve made yourself impossible to ignore… which, knowing you, is probably exactly the point.” Leaning back in her chair, Rhea smirked. “So yeah, maybe it is a win. Even if it’s the messy kind you’re pretending isn’t addictive.” Her gaze lingered on him for a beat before she added, quieter but still sharp, “Just don’t act surprised when the fire you’re poking decides to burn back.”
Tatiana laughed as if Rhea told a good joke, she wouldn’t break the news to someone else other than her best friend first. In fact, it was practically law between them. “And you say I’m dramatic.” teased the publicist with a knowing smile. “Fine, your feelings are absolutely valid. I wish you were there to take photos and be my emotional support buddy, but it happened so fast. Next thing you know I became Tatiana Valois.” The way her best friend hyped up her wedding had her grinning from ear to ear as she was looking forward to planning it with her. “You know, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together planning this out. I can’t complain, your reassurance and validation is what’s keeping me sane.”
Taking her phone, the publicist made a tentative block on her calendar to prevent any scheduling surprises from her clients, employees and other publicists. “To be determined, coffee for the first half probably…end it off with a cocktail if we succeed in planning.” She would try to find ways where she could get the best of both worlds, but in Tati’s eyes they deserved it if they were going to put their minds together to pull off the wedding of the year. “Absolutely babe, preach it to the choir!” she exclaimed with a laugh before taking a long sip. “Love you always Rhea, I appreciate you!” As she set her glass down, she clasped her hands together and placed it on the table like she meant business, "So when do I get to meet Duke, hm?"
Rhea laughed, the warmth in her chest spreading as she caught Tatiana’s excitement and felt it ripple through her like electricity. “Dramatic? Please, you’re the queen of grand gestures and unforgettable moments—no complaints here.” She reached across the table and gave Tatiana’s hand a squeeze, her eyes sparkling with affection. “And I promise, you won’t just get photos—you’ll get the full emotional support squad. I’ll be there for every meltdown, every freak-out, and every victory dance.” Her smile softened as she thought about the planning ahead, the late nights, the brainstorming sessions—everything that made this more than just a wedding, but a celebration of something real and beautiful. “Coffee to cocktails sounds like the perfect way to get it all done. We’ll make it fun, no stress allowed.”
Then, her gaze flicked up with a teasing glint at Tatiana’s last question. “Duke, huh? Soon enough, I’m sure. He better be nervous about meeting the legend that is you, so you better bring your A-game.” She grinned, eyes dancing with mischief. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure he knows this friendship is sacred territory.” Rhea leaned back, relaxed but buzzing with anticipation. “Love you too, Tati. We’re going to make this wedding one for the books. You know that right?”
"Deshawn stays with his mom most of the time, comes around when he needs something or wants to hang out," Duke said, his fingers tightening around hers as she traced patterns across his shirt that made him forget they were in public. "And yeah, I'd clear out every game on that midway if it meant seeing you smile like that." Her admission about stealing spotlights but needing someone to have her back hit him square in the chest, and he could see her walls coming down just enough to let him glimpse what was underneath all that fire and bravado. She was asking him to step into something real here, something that went beyond flirting in coffee shops and stolen moments in elevators, and honestly he'd been waiting for this question since the first time she'd challenged him to be more than just another guy keeping his head down in Devil's Junction.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice low as her eyes searched his face. "To join you in the fire?" The question came out rougher than he'd intended, loaded with four years of keeping everyone at arm's length and all the reasons he'd had for doing it—but looking at her now, feeling her fingers against his chest where his heart was beating too fast, those reasons seemed pretty damn stupid. "I mean, I've been standing in the shadows long enough, and if you're asking me to burn with you instead of just watching from the sidelines, then hell yes I can risk it." He moved his thumb across her knuckles, anchoring himself to this moment where she was offering him everything he hadn't known he wanted.
She had so many questions about his personal life, wanting to know more but instead she nodded as he spoke about Deshawn residing with Duke's sister. "I bet he always wants to hang out with his uncle Duke." Her breath caught, her gaze locking on his as the weight of his words settled between them like the scent of fresh coffee — warm, real, impossible to ignore. Her fingers tightened just a bit on his hand, tracing slow circles on his skin, grounding herself to the moment too, the way his thumb moved against her knuckles. “Yeah,” she whispered, voice low and steady, “I want that. Not just the fire — the whole damn blaze.”
She leaned in closer, the hum of the café fading around them as the space between them narrowed. “Standing in the shadows never did either of us any favours, did it? Watching, waiting… it’s lonely. And honestly, I’m done with lonely.” Her eyes flicked down to his lips for a heartbeat before meeting his again, fierce and unguarded. “If we’re going to burn, we might as well set the whole damn place on fire together.” A slow smile curved her lips — bold, brazen, and maybe a little reckless. “So yeah, I’m asking you to jump in with me. No half-measures. No running back to the sidelines.” She squeezed his hand once more, the heat between them crackling like a promise. “And something tells me, you're not going to disappoint me with your answer.”
"Mhmm... we're definitely both screwed," Hae-Rin said with a laugh that felt both nervous and excited at the same time, because honestly what else could she do when Rhea laid it out like that—big, beautiful, complicated trouble was exactly right. "But you saying you want to see what he looks like first thing in the morning? That's when you know it's real, not just the fun flirty stuff." She could relate to that terror of being chosen at your worst because wasn't that exactly what Ford had been doing for years without either of them really acknowledging it? He'd seen her show up at his door at some random morning hour stressed about work, cranky from lack of sleep, being unreasonable about stupid things, and he'd never once made her feel like she was too much or too difficult. "The scary part about getting married though is that now there's nowhere to hide from it, like we can't pretend it's just friendship anymore when there's a ring and legal documents involved." Was she overthinking this whole thing or was marriage really just the ultimate way of saying you're willing to be seen completely? Because that's what it felt like right now, terrifying and wonderful all at once. "At least with your mystery guy you can still pretend it's casual if you want to, but I'm about to sign papers that basically say 'yes, I choose this person forever' and hope like hell he feels the same way about me."
She smiled, a soft warmth threading through her eyes as she listened to Hae-Rin’s words—so honest, so raw. “Yeah, big, beautiful, complicated trouble… sounds about right for both of us,” she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “And waking up next to someone who sees all the messy, unfiltered versions of you? That’s the real deal. No filters, no pretending. It’s terrifying, but also kind of the best thing there is.” She took a slow sip of her wine, letting the quiet settle between them before continuing. “Ford sounds like he’s been showing up in all the ways that matter, even if neither of you talked about it out loud. That’s what sticks—the people who don’t run when the real stuff hits, who hold space for you on the days you feel too much.”
Rhea’s smile softened, touched by the vulnerability in Hae-Rin’s voice. “And yeah… marriage. It’s like stepping into the light with everything laid bare. No hiding, no running back to ‘just friends’ when it gets hard. It’s bold, and scary, and kind of beautiful in its own messy way.” She leaned in slightly, voice dropping just a little. “But that kind of fear? It’s proof you’re doing something real.” She tapped her glass gently against Hae-Rin’s. “You’re about to make a promise that changes everything. And from where I’m sitting, that’s the bravest kind of love there is.”
Kai met her gaze, seeing the subtle shift in her expression. Underneath the dry humor and sarcasm, he could see a hint of vulnerability, a flicker of pain. His lips tugged into a small smile, almost bittersweet. "Guarded." He repeated, his voice low but steady. "That's a polite way of putting it, isn't it?" He leaned back in his chair, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And, yes, I've quoted Neruda once or twice. But only to impress the ladies and occasional gent." He shot her a wry grin. He leaned back slightly, regarding her with thoughtful eyes. "You know." He started, his voice taking on a more serious note. "I think there's something to be said for scars and pain. They make us who we are, huh? Even if it’s not necessarily who we intended to be…”
She met his gaze steadily, a flicker of something softer threading through her usual guarded cool. “Guarded is definitely the polite version,” she admitted with a small, wry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sometimes it feels more like a full-on fortress.” She let out a quiet laugh, the kind that held a little weariness beneath the surface. “And Neruda, huh? Guess the ladies and gents got good taste.” She arched an eyebrow playfully but didn’t push him further on the poetry front—some things were better left unspoken, or maybe saved for the right moment. Her fingers traced absent circles on the rim of her glass as she considered his words. “Scars and pain... yeah. They shape us, whether we want them to or not. Sometimes they feel like a map of every mistake, every loss... but also every survival.” She looked up, meeting his eyes again, letting the vulnerability slip through just a bit. “I don’t think anyone ever really plans to become who they are after the hardest parts. It’s more like you get carved out by the world, piece by piece.” She paused, voice softening. “But maybe, just maybe, those pieces make us stronger. More real. More willing to let someone in, even if it scares the hell out of us.” Her smile returned, a little brighter now, though still edged with that bittersweet honesty. “I guess the trick is finding someone who sees the stories in the scars, instead of just the damage.”
"Damn right they're gonna stare," he said, following her lead through the tent entrance while trying not to think about how her lips had been close enough to his ear that he could feel her breath, or how she'd just casually mentioned losing his innocence like she was planning to corrupt him in ways that had nothing to do with circus acts. The tent was buzzing with energy and noise, families finding seats while performers warmed up in the background, but honestly all he could focus on was how she kept touching him—first his arm, then his wrist—like she was marking her territory or something, and he wasn't complaining. Her comment about liking men who tried even when the odds were rigged hit different though, because wasn't that exactly what this whole thing between them was?
Rigged odds, impossible circumstances, and him trying anyway because walking away from her had never been an option since that first night in the alley. "Strongman skills?" he asked, letting her pull him deeper into the crowd while wondering if she had any idea what she was doing to him with all this confident energy and those looks that promised trouble. The sawdust crunched under their feet and somewhere overhead a trapeze artist was practicing swings, but all he could think was that she was right—they weren't here to blend in, they were here to steal the show, and with her looking like sin in that jumpsuit he was pretty sure mission accomplished before they'd even found their seats. "What exactly are you expecting me to lift, because I should probably warn you now that my ego's bigger than my actual strength."
Rhea’s grin deepened, slow and deliberate, the kind of smile that hinted at secrets just waiting to be unraveled. She glanced over her shoulder toward the ring, but her eyes flicked back to Duke, shimmering in the warm haze of the tent lights. “I’m expecting you to lift more than just weights tonight,” she said, her voice low and playful but edged with something softer underneath—something that wasn’t just about teasing. “How about the weight of keeping up with me? That’s the real strongman challenge.” Her fingers curled around his wrist briefly, the pressure both grounding and electric, before she let go, stepping toward the edge of the midway where one of those classic carnival games stood: the hammer swing that promised a giant stuffed animal for the victor. She nodded toward the game, the colourful lights blinking in rhythm with the music and laughter all around them. “See that?” she said, voice a little quieter now, more intimate. “That’s where I’m expecting you to prove yourself. Not just with muscles, but with guts—and maybe a little bit of luck.”
Rhea let her gaze drift over the crowd for a moment, watching families cheer and kids bounce with sugar highs. It was chaos and noise, but somehow, with Duke here beside her, it felt less like a circus and more like a stage for something new—something worth fighting for. Her thoughts drifted, unspoken but clear: she’d spent so long guarding her heart, dodging damage and pushing people away, but with Duke, it wasn’t about hiding or protecting anymore. It was about showing up, scars and all, and maybe even risking the burn.
Turning back to him, she let a softer edge slip into her voice. “I’m not just looking for someone who can play the game,” she said, eyes steady on his. “I want someone who’s willing to go all in, even when the odds feel stacked against them. Someone who doesn’t run at the first sign of fire but stays long enough to build something that lasts. You’ve surprised me, Duke. More than once. And honestly? That means more than any giant stuffed tiger ever could.” Her hand brushed his arm as she added with a teasing smile, “But don’t get too comfortable just yet. If you want to impress me, you’re going to have to keep up—and maybe try not to lose your cool when those knives start flying.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and challenge. “Or when I decide to try it as well.”
"A tent full of screaming kids high on sugar sounds like my kind of chaos," Duke said, his grip on her hand tightening as her fingertips traced across his shirt, and honestly he wasn't sure if she was testing him or just enjoying watching him try to keep his composure in public. "You want me to win you a giant stuffed tiger? I'll clear out every game on that midway if that's what it takes." Her hand moving against his chest made him forget for a second that they were sitting in a coffee shop instead of somewhere private, but hell, maybe that was part of what made this work between them—she never did anything halfway either.
"And stealing the spotlight while I stand in the shadows grinning? That's not even a challenge for you, is it?" He could already picture her under those carnival lights, drawing every eye while he watched from the sidelines, probably looking like he'd just won the lottery instead of lost his mind over a woman who collected chaos like other people collected stamps. "But here's what you're not getting about me standing in those shadows," he said, leaning closer until their faces were just inches apart, "I won't be hiding back there because I'm afraid of the fire. I'll be back there because watching you burn everything down is going to be the best part of my entire week."
"Oh yeah? Are you also planning on taking Deshawn at some point?" She didn't know if Duke's nephew stayed here or elsewhere but she found herself wanting to know more about him--always. It was weird, normally she didn't care to get to know people and here she was, wanting to know everything about Duke. "Ooh careful Duke, you're beginning to get a little too sexy, especially when you talk about clearing out every game just to get me a giant tiger," she loved the way his heart beat under her fingertips, reminding them both of this moment and how charged it was beginning to get.
Her smile softened, the teasing edge melting into something a little more thoughtful as her fingers traced lightly over his shirt. “Yeah, I’m the one stealing the spotlight,” she admitted quietly, her voice dipping with a hint of something more real beneath the playfulness. “But it’s not just about burning bright for the moment. It’s about knowing someone’s got your back when the flames die down.” She leaned in just a little, letting the warmth between them grow, her eyes searching his as if trying to read the parts he didn’t say out loud. Rhea found herself leaning in as well, not able to pull herself back especially when she caught that look in his eyes. "What if I ask you to join me in the fire? Can you risk it?"
Violeta lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, me and Duke go way back. He’s always been a stubborn pain, but honestly, that’s half his charm.” She glances at Rhea, noticing the way she’s fiddling with her rings, and decides to just say it straight. “You saying you wouldn’t change him? That’s rare. Most people want to fix what they don’t understand. You’re not trying to do that, and trust me, he’ll notice.” She thinks about Christian, and it’s strange how easy it is to talk about him now. “With Christian, it was weird, because we never really had any big fights. No dramatic blow-ups or storming out. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t. Everything just… worked. He’d show up, make me laugh, remember the little things. I realised I was comfortable, but not bored. I didn’t feel like I had to keep my guard up, and that was new for me. It wasn’t about fireworks or drama; it was just steady, and that felt right. I guess I knew it was worth it when I realised I wanted to be around for the quiet days too, not just the excitement.”
She smiled softly, her fingers still playing with the delicate rings as she listened to Violeta. “Yeah, Duke’s stubbornness is definitely part of his charm — and sometimes the part that drives me crazy,” she admitted with a sly grin. “But honestly, it’s the stuff you don’t want to fix that makes the whole thing real. Trying to change someone just feels like fighting the tide, and I’m not about that life.” She glanced up, meeting Violeta’s eyes with something honest and steady. “I get what you mean about Christian… That quiet kind of comfort is rare. The kind that doesn’t need grand gestures or fireworks to feel like home.” Her voice softened a little, a hint of wistfulness threading through her words. “I think that’s what I want too — someone who shows up not just for the chaos but for the calm after it. Who’s there for the messy, loud, wild parts and the quiet mornings that follow.” Rhea paused, then tilted her head with a teasing smile. “So, how are you really doing with all that, Vi? Quiet days, wild nights, and everything in between?”
“Girl, it all happened too fast and for the record, I don’t text, email or post my personal life publicly. I prefer having meaningful conversations and you know, on the bright side you are the first one I told…So this is special treatment.” However, Tati did agree that she should have run it by her maid of honour and so she added, “You’re honestly right on both accounts. I should have consulted you, but also you know me well enough that if I want something I do what it takes to get it and in that moment…It just came to me at lightning speed that I couldn’t hold back.”
On the topic of her actual ceremony, Tatiana felt a wave of excitement rush through as she began thinking of when they should start planning. “You make it sound like it’ll be the wedding of the year! I’m counting on you to make sure I don’t crash out and I’d hate to be a bride-zilla. Shall we make time next week to start some planning? I honestly don’t know where to start.” When Rhea opened up about Duke, the publicist couldn’t help but smile proudly at her best friend’s honesty before raising her glass to clink it with hers, “And here’s to hoping that you stop running, you feel seen and that you’re safe with bad boy Duke. Here's to love, we deserve it always!”
She gave her a dramatic, narrowed-eye look over the rim of her glass, setting it down with a soft clink before leaning in. “Special treatment, huh? I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” she said, tone dry but teasing. “You better not be out here breaking news exclusives to someone else first. I’m your maid of honour, not your intern.” Still, even her faux offence couldn’t hide the warmth in her expression. Her voice softened slightly as she added, “I get it though. When you know, you know. And lightning speed is very on-brand for you. I just reserve the right to act wounded for exactly one more brunch before I forgive you completely.” She grinned, all affection and light ribbing, before reaching for her mimosa again. The mention of wedding planning had her sitting up straighter, a glint of excitement flashing in her eyes. “Oh, babe. It will be the wedding of the year,” she said with the kind of confidence only Rhea could pull off without sounding like a diva. “We’re talking dreamy venue, impeccable guest list, a playlist that will make grown men cry—and yes, I will keep you from going full bride-zilla, but I’m also not above slapping a crystal tiara on your head if it helps you calm down during a meltdown.”
She tapped her phone screen, already mentally blocking out their calendars. “Next week. We’ll do coffee or cocktails—depending on your stress level—and start making magic. I’m thinking vision boards, dress scouting, and you sitting your fabulous ass down while I run point.” When their glasses clinked again, Rhea’s smile shifted into something softer. “And here’s to your epic love,” she echoed, gaze steady. “To not running. To being chosen, every damn time—even when we don’t make it easy.” She smirked before continuing. “And if Duke does act up… you, me, and a couple of stiletto heels will handle it.” She winked, but her voice was nothing but sincere as she added, “we really do deserve it all, Tati. And I’ve got you—through every spreadsheet, seating chart, and breakdown.”
