The door buzzed not long after Nicky vanished inside to help León, and within seconds, it was chaos.
Luca waltzed in like he owned the penthouse—oversized sunglasses, floaty white shirt, skin bronzed from the week and cheekbones extra sharp today. Elias followed behind him, already laughing at something on his phone, while Renee entered in a neon silk robe over a black bikini, sipping from a canned cocktail like it was her divine right.
"Did the party start without us?" Luca called, dropping his bag like a king returning from exile.
Valeria swept in from the kitchen. "You're late."
"You're lucky we're here," Elias said. "I almost got kidnapped by a hairless dog on your street."
"Same," Renee muttered. "Except mine had a leash and a judgmental owner."
Eliana smiled, easing into the mood. Luca gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, then held her at arm's length.
"You look tired," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "That's just my face."
Luca clicked his tongue and turned to the rest. "We need to talk plans. And I don't mean just this weekend. I mean—after New York."
"You're all going?" Valeria asked, raising a brow.
"Darling," Luca said, flopping onto a lounge chair like a Roman emperor. "This is the show. Of course we're going."
"Our team flies out Sunday," Eliana added. "Two weeks total. One to prep, one for the main events."
Elias sprawled beside Renee and said, "Let's plan something after. A proper break. Weekend escape. We deserve it."
"To relax and rot gloriously," Luca declared.
"Where?" Valeria asked, pouring more rosé.
"New York itself," Luca answered. "We stay a couple more days after the chaos. Do the city properly. Spa. Shows. Champagne in the park. No stress, no fittings, no PR."
"Ooh," Renee purred. "Now you're speaking my language."
"I'll need you to clear your schedule, El," Luca added, turning to her. "Block three days minimum after fashion week. That's an order. Boss perks."
Eliana laughed, heart lighter than it had been in days. "You're planning this like a honeymoon."
"Because I love us," Luca said dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "We've been through hell and heels together."
"And you deserve champagne baths for it," Valeria added.
"I know the owner of a private club in SoHo," Elias chimed in, casually swirling his glass. "Totally celeb-only. Very hush-hush. I can probably get us in."
"Oh? We're name-dropping now?" Renee teased.
Elias grinned. "I'm a man of connections."
"Okay, Gossip Girl," Eliana giggled. "But yes. Please."
The mood lifted further—plans spilling out like champagne bubbles. Where to stay. What to wear. Where to eat. Valeria mentioned a rooftop bar she'd been dying to try. Luca promised to book spa treatments that involved gold foil and seaweed. Elias vowed to find them a "chaotic-but-sexy speakeasy" with velvet walls and no straight people.
Eliana leaned back, her arms behind her, letting the laughter wash over her.
This was what she needed.
This.
The future. Something to look forward to.
She glanced toward the sliding door, where Nicky stood watching them through the glass. The wind caught a strand of his hair. He held a glass of wine, face unreadable.
When their eyes met, she smiled.
He didn't.
But she didn't let it sink her.
Instead, she turned back to the group.
"I'm in," she said. "Block those dates. I'll survive New York for this."
And everyone cheered.
She had tried. She really tried to leave after dinner.
Her things were packed. She had a sweet lie ready—something about an early call time, or a long to-do list tomorrow—but Valeria, barefoot and wine-warm, had laughed and called her bluff.
"Nonsense," Valeria said, linking their arms with glittery fingers. "You're not escaping us. We swim."
So here they were.
The pool glowed blue in the dark, carved into the hillside like a secret. Warm, smooth water lapped against stone edges. The city sparkled below them, but up here, it felt like the world had fallen away.
Everyone was a little full, a little buzzed. Elias had music playing low from someone's speaker, and Luca had thrown off his shirt and started doing slow, lazy laps like a sea witch on sabbatical. Renee was perched at the edge, kicking her legs and sipping some floral cocktail that matched her nails.
And Eliana?
She floated.
Not far. Just enough to drift. Her arms outstretched. The water silky against her thighs. Her body finally relaxed, suspended in silence.
Until her drift landed her beside him.
Nicky.
He was always the quiet one.
Still. Observant. A little outside the center of the chaos but never far from it.
It wasn't weird to find herself next to him.
But it was.
Because of what happened.
Because of everything that happened.
And now, under the soft light and the shimmer of the pool's surface, it felt too loud even in silence.
He was leaning back against the wall, half-submerged, hair slicked back, eyes closed. But he opened them when she got close.
Just slightly.
A flicker.
"Hey," he said, low.
Her voice caught. "Hey."
Elias swam past behind him, slow and deliberate. His brow raised slightly when he saw them, but he didn't say anything. Just dove forward and let them be.
The ripple of water faded.
Leaving her.
And him.
"I'm not gonna bite you," Nicky said, voice quiet, eyes back on the sky.
She swallowed.
"That's not what—"
"I meant," he cut in, "you don't have to act like I'll shatter if you get too close."
Her face burned. "I'm not—"
He looked at her then. Really looked.
Not harsh. Not cold.
Just… Nicky.
Still.
Unreadable.
Real.
"El," he said gently. "You're literally clinging to the edge like I've got cooties."
Her fingers tightened on the stone ledge.
He didn't sound mad.
Not like the way he looked when he walked away that night. Not like the ghost she'd been carrying all week.
"I just… didn't know what you'd want," she admitted.
A beat.
Then: "Come closer. Or our friends will definitely know something's weird."
That stung. More than it should.
But she moved.
Not much. Just enough to let her float closer—half a meter between them now, water swaying with their weight.
"I didn't mean to make it weird," she whispered.
Nicky didn't respond.
Not at first.
Then finally, his voice—lower than usual, tired at the edges.
"I know."
He didn't look at her.
And she didn't push.
They stayed like that.
Quiet.
Side by side.
Not touching.
But something still moved between them in the water. Not words. Not yet.
Just... recognition.
Of what had passed.
Of what couldn't be undone.
And maybe—maybe—that was enough.
For tonight.