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Damien wasn't particularly fond of high-end parties.

They were exhausting.

A bunch of rich, insufferable people pretending they weren't plotting each other's downfall with every sip of champagne.

But this one?

It was particularly stupid.

Because the host, Henry Sinclair, a ridiculously wealthy business mogul with more ex-wives than actual business ventures, was throwing yet another engagement party.

His fourth.

Damien sipped his whiskey as he scanned the elegant invitation. "I give it six months."

Luca, lounging on the couch with Mochi curled in his lap, raised an eyebrow. "You're being generous."

Damien smirked. That's my sweetheart.

"Are we actually going?" Luca asked, scratching behind Mochi's ears.

Damien leaned back. "We have to. It'd be suspicious if I didn't."

Luca groaned. "Great. I get to spend my night surrounded by pretentious rich people."

Damien chuckled. "You'll survive. You have me."

Luca rolled his eyes. "Oh, lucky me."

The event was held in one of the most extravagant ballrooms in the city.

A towering chandelier, gold-trimmed everything, and more expensive champagne than should be legal.

Luca, dressed in a sleek black suit Damien picked out, looked breathtaking.

Damien, in his own tailored attire, had one arm around Luca's waist. Protective. Possessive.

Luca pretended to be annoyed by it, but Damien could tell he didn't actually mind.

And then—

"Luca?"

Damien immediately noticed the shift in Luca.

The way his body stiffened, the way his fingers subtly curled against Damien's arm.

Damien's gaze flicked to the man standing before them.

Young. Handsome. Familiar.

And from the look on Luca's face—someone important.

"Elias," Luca breathed.

Damien's grip on Luca's waist tightened.

The conversation between Luca and Elias was a mix of nostalgia and something heavier.

Damien didn't like it.

He stood there, silent, listening. Watching.

Elias was too comfortable.

Too close.

And Luca, his Luca, looked... conflicted.

Elias smiled, all charming and warm. "It's been so long."

Luca nodded, a soft, almost sad smile on his lips. "Yeah."

Damien's fingers twitched.

He wasn't jealous.

Damien Callisto didn't get jealous.

But he did not like this.

At all.

Later, away from the noise, away from prying eyes, Damien leaned against a balcony railing, arms crossed.

Luca stood beside him, sipping his drink.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Damien said, "You looked at him differently."

Luca sighed. "He was my first love, Damien."

Damien stiffened.

Of course.

He exhaled sharply, jaw tight. "And what does that mean?"

Luca looked at him then, really looked at him.

And he smiled. Soft. Amused. Affectionate.

"It means," Luca said, stepping closer, "that he's my past."

Damien swallowed.

Luca placed a hand on his chest. "And you? You're my present. My future."

Something inside Damien unraveled.

Luca rolled his eyes, smirking. "God, you're dramatic."

Damien scoffed. "Says the man who once threatened to wage war over a lost cat."

Luca gasped. "First of all, Mochi is family."

Damien chuckled. That he is.

Luca pulled him down by the tie, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

And Damien?

He melted.

First loves were irrelevant.

Because Luca was his.

Now and forever.

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