Chapter 3

Lucia had to admit—Adrian Sinclair was persistent.

For over a week, he continued showing up at Ember Lounge, each visit accompanied by the same knowing smirk, the same irritating confidence, and the same frustratingly charming banter.

Lucia, for her part, remained unimpressed.

"You know," Adrian said one evening, resting his elbows on the bar, "most people in my position don't have to work this hard for attention."

Lucia smirked as she wiped down the counter. "That must be exhausting for you."

He chuckled. "Not really. I like a challenge."

She shook her head. "See, that's where you're wrong. I'm not a challenge. I'm just not interested."

Adrian leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes filled with intrigue. "Is that so?"

Lucia met his gaze, unflinching. "Yes."

A slow smile spread across his lips, like a man who had just been presented with an impossible puzzle—and was determined to solve it.

"All right," he said, setting his drink down. "Let's make a bet."

Lucia raised an eyebrow. "A bet?"

"If I can prove to you that I'm more than just a rich guy with a fat bank account, you agree to have dinner with me."

Lucia let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Adrian asked, tilting his head. "Afraid I'll win?"

She scoffed. "You're so sure of yourself. What makes you think you can prove anything to me?"

Adrian smirked. "Give me a week."

Lucia crossed her arms. "A week for what?"

"To show you who I really am. No money, no name, just me."

Lucia stared at him I'm wonderment. "Do you really have nothing doing? Like your billionaire duties or stuff?"

Adrian smiled. "Leave that to me, Lucia" his voice was charmingly deep "Do you accept the challenge or not?".

She stared at him, waiting for the punchline. "You expect me to believe that a billionaire who has spent his entire life solving problems with money suddenly knows how to be... normal?"

Adrian grinned. "That's the challenge, isn't it?"

Lucia shook her head. "You're wasting your time."

"Maybe," Adrian said, finishing his drink. "But I've got plenty of it."

He slid five hundred-dollar bills across the bar and stood, adjusting the cuff of his tailored suit.

"One week," he repeated. "I'll prove it to you."

Lucia watched as he walked away, disappearing into the night like a man who had just set something in motion.

She told herself it didn't matter.

She told herself he would get bored.

But deep down, she had a nagging feeling.

Adrian Sinclair wasn't a man who made bets he couldn't win.

Lucia didn't expect Adrian Sinclair to follow through on his ridiculous bet.

Rich men like him didn't know how to exist without their wealth. It was their shield, their weapon, their identity. So when Adrian claimed he could prove he was more than a billionaire, she assumed it was just another empty challenge—something to entertain him for a few nights before he inevitably moved on.

But on Monday evening, when she stepped out of Ember Lounge after her shift, she found him waiting outside.

In jeans.

Lucia stopped mid-step, blinking in shock. Gone was the tailored suit, the polished cufflinks, the effortless arrogance that dripped from every inch of his usual appearance. Instead, he stood by the curb wearing dark denim, a fitted black T-shirt, and sneakers that looked suspiciously brand-new—like he'd gone shopping just to look casual.

"You look... different," she said, folding her arms.

Adrian smirked. "You sound disappointed."

"I'm just surprised you actually showed up."

"I told you I don't back down from a challenge." He shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around the dimly lit street. "So. Where are we going?"

Lucia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You work late shifts. I assume you haven't eaten yet. Let me buy you dinner."

She rolled her eyes. "That's literally the opposite of what you're supposed to be proving. You can't buy your way into a conversation with me."

Adrian chuckled. "Fair. Then you pick the place, and I'll follow your lead."

Lucia hesitated. He was serious about this.

Fine. Let's see how long he lasts.

"There's a 24-hour diner down the block," she said. "Cheap, greasy food. Probably not up to billionaire standards, but it's what I can afford."

Adrian grinned. "Sounds perfect."

She highly doubted that.

They walked in silence, the city's nightlife buzzing around them. Adrian didn't seem uncomfortable, but he was definitely out of his element. The usual air of confidence was still there, but something about him seemed... looser. More real.

When they reached the diner, Lucia slid into a booth and Adrian sat across from her. The laminated menu was worn, the lighting slightly too bright, and the smell of coffee and grilled cheese filled the air.

A waitress with tired eyes and a pen tucked behind her ear approached. "What'll it be?"

Lucia didn't need to look at the menu. "Pancakes and black coffee."

Adrian scanned the options like he was reading a foreign language. "Uh... same, I guess."

Lucia smirked. "You don't strike me as a pancake guy."

"I don't think I've ever ordered food from a place that has a sticky menu," Adrian admitted, tapping the table. "This is a first."

Lucia shook her head. "You're seriously telling me you've never eaten in a diner?"

"Not one like this."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you do when you're hungry at two in the morning?"

"Order a personal chef," he said casually. Then, at her unimpressed look, he added, "Or room service."

Lucia huffed a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Adrian leaned forward slightly. "You think you have me all figured out, don't you?"

"I think you've lived a very different life than I have."

The waitress returned with their coffee, and Adrian wrapped his hands around the mug like he wasn't sure what to do with it. Lucia watched with mild amusement as he took a sip—then immediately winced.

"It's hot," he muttered.

Lucia laughed. "That's usually how coffee works."

Adrian set the cup down, shaking his head. "Okay, so I'm out of my element. But that's the point, right?"

Lucia studied him for a moment. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was the fact that he was sitting in a diner instead of a five-star restaurant, but for the first time, he seemed... real. Less like a billionaire and more like just another guy trying to figure things out.

"Why are you really doing this?" she asked.

Adrian met her gaze. "Because you make me want to prove that I can."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, the waitress arrived with their pancakes, and Lucia picked up her fork, shaking her head.

"If you survive this meal, I'll be impressed."

Adrian grinned, picking up his own fork. "Challenge accepted."