Marcus doesn’t. He just studies me like I’m a contract he’s about to renegotiate. “So. You okay with this?”
The question is careful, but there’s a quiet steel beneath it. He’s watching for any hesitation, any sign that I’m not okay with it.
Honestly, I don’t know what I am, but Ben has offered to donate a considerable amount for their cause.
I cross my arms, forcing my voice steady. “I can handle Ben.”
Marcus looks unconvinced. “You sure?”
Sophie nudges him with her elbow. “Marcus, relax. If Ben tries anything, Lila will rip him apart before you even get the chance.”
His lips press into a thin line, then he looks back at me, unreadable. “Lila, you don’t have to go through with this,” he says, voice steady, measured. “If you don’t want to do it, I’ll cover the donation. Ten grand, twenty, it doesn’t matter. You’re not stuck.”
The words hit somewhere deep, unexpected. Not just because Marcus offering to casually drop a fortune on me is something I never saw coming, but because… he means it. There’s no expectation, no hidden agenda, just the quiet, solid reassurance that I have an out if I need it.
Marcus might be a billionaire, but he’s also fiercely loyal. Protective in a way that isn’t possessive, just steady, unwavering. The kind of person who would go to war for the people he cares about without hesitation.
Sophie caught a good one. A frigging unicorn that you only read about in books.
I swallow hard. “It’s fine,” I say, softer this time. “Really.”
His sharp gaze flickers over me, assessing, searching, but I hold steady.
Sophie steps closer, resting a hand on Marcus’s chest in that effortless way she always does, like she’s the only one who can tame the storm brewing beneath his sharp exterior. “Babe,” she murmurs, her voice soft but firm. “Let Lila handle it.”
Sophie turns to me, her expression gentler now. “Are you sure, Lila? You don’t have to do this. This was supposed to be fun, and if it’s not—” She squeezes my arm. “We can figure something out.”
There it is. The escape hatch. A way out, if I want it.
I swallow, something warm curling in my chest at her concern. “I’m sure.”
Sophie searches my face for another second before nodding. Then she smiles, something full of quiet gratitude. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “This is an incredible thing you’re doing.”
Beside her, Marcus exhales sharply, reluctant but relenting. “Alright.” His voice is measured, controlled. But then his eyes harden slightly. “Just know if he so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll handle it.”
Sophie rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of amusement in her exasperation. “You’re very intimidating, babe. We all appreciate it.”
Before Marcus can double down on his threat, a tiny voice pipes up from behind him.
“Who are you handling?”
Maeve tugs at the hem of her mum’s dress, her big eyes blinking up at all of us, clearly unimpressed that something interesting is happening without her.
Olivia smothers a laugh. “No one, sweetheart. Uncle Marcus is just being dramatic.”
Marcus makes a noise of protest, but before he can defend himself, Maeve turns her attention to me, then to Ben across the room. She squints at him, tilting her head like she’s studying a strange bug under a microscope. “Is he the coffee man?”
I sigh. “Yes, Maeve. He’s the coffee man.”
She purses her lips, nodding sagely, then leans in close and conspiratorial. “He’s too handsome, I don’t trust him.”
Willow chokes on a laugh, and Olivia looks like she’s never been prouder. Marcus grins, ruffling Maeve’s hair. “Smart kid.”
Maeve puffs up like she’s just been awarded a medal. Then she narrows her eyes across the ballroom. “Maybe I should put him in time-out.”
Sophie loses it, laughing into Marcus’s shoulder, and Olivia wipes at her eyes like she’s overwhelmed by her daughter’s brilliance.
I can’t help it, I laugh too. Because, honestly? She’s not wrong.
