Ashley's POV

I nearly choked on air as I continued to stare at his hand.

His last name sounded too familiar, heck his face was familiar too. Had I seen him before in some magazine or something?

Could it be a coincidence? What were the chances that he was related to Tristan? But knowing Layla, this was all planned out.

"Montenegro?" I asked, gathering my thoughts to speak.

"Yes," he answered with a smile.

At this point, he must have thought I was a lunatic by how I kept staring at him.

With a face like that, was he used to women staring at him?

He gave himself the invitation to sit in the chair opposite mine as I remained dumbfounded.

I felt my legs quiver under the table. I turned to look at the menu as I tried to conceal my hands which were now also shaking. Avoiding eye contact was my best bet, that way this situation wouldn't be any more awkward.

The questions piling up in my brain wouldn't let me stay in silence. I still had no idea why he was here.

"Do you happen to be related to Tristan?" I asked, finally tearing my eyes away from the menu.

"As it so happens, he is my cousin." He answered.

I mouthed an 'Oh'. That helped clear up some doubts. He was related to Tristan which meant he knew Layla who was the reason both of us were here. I should have known she would try to pull something.

Now that I think about it, I don't know why the thought hadn't registered. Tristan and Vincent shared some similar facial features. They both had the same effect on people when they smiled. However, it still wasn't enough to automatically tell they were related.

"Of course, I happen to be the good-looking one in the family." He added.

"Is everyone in your family this arrogant?" I chuckled. I remembered Tristan saying something similar.

"No, we just took our classes on self-esteem very seriously." He answered with a poker face. I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

I chose to chuckle, returning my eyes to the menu. I still couldn't keep my legs from trembling.

Staring at the menu, I pretended like it was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. Nothing could cure the amount of awkwardness I felt in this situation.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked the most important question.

"You want to get rid of me already?" He asked. He must have been a skilled actor because he almost looked hurt.

"I'm just curious," I answered.

"I was..."

He was interrupted when a waiter walked in to take both our orders.

Despite staring at the menu for so long, I still had no idea what I wanted to eat.

Vincent took the lead as he ordered some chicken wraps for the two of us.

I took a sip of the water the waiter left on the table, waiting for him to explain why he was here.

"Okay look," he sighed. "I just received a text from my aunt with a date and time. She gave a long confusing explanation followed by a threat, so here I am." He answered.

That, I could believe.

I folded my arms on the table as I continued to stare at him. "So, you just agreed to come?" I asked.

"I don't know if you know, but my aunt can be really scary sometimes. She was going to have my head if I didn't. Frankly, I just happen to love my pretty face," he answered.

"I'm sure she's not that bad," I chuckled. Now that we were on the topic of Layla, I felt more relaxed.

Vincent leaned in, resting both his hands on the table. Suddenly we were close, too close.

"I still get nightmares of her when she told me Santa wasn't real. I was five. It was the most soul-crushing experience," he added. He pulled back faking a tear. "Or maybe it was my grandfather who said it. Either way, I have way too many family issues to count. I'm sure I have something against Layla." He laughed.

"You call your aunt by her name?" I asked. "You must be one of the few brave ones." I laughed.

"She told us to call her by her name. She said she didn't want to feel old." He answered. "I guess she needed validation that her wrinkle creams were working." He laughed.

I shook my head at him in disapproval. I imagined Layla being here and how she might probably choke him to death or say something even smarter like, 'He looks like he needs facial reconstruction surgery.' Even though that wouldn't be true.

Before, most of my experiences with rich people were with uptight and condescending people. But Tristan and his family were different. They seemed easy to talk to.

The waiter returned, laying out our food on the table and drinks on the side.

For a while, we sat quietly enjoying our food.

"So do you have a sister as hot as you?" He winked.

I looked up from my plate. "I'm sorry to say, but my sister actually has taste." I retorted.

He pulled back, placing a hand on his chest. "Ouch," he muttered. "I'll have you know that I have very good references from all my lovers," he commented.

That was not something I wanted to imagine.

"She is practically still jailbait, she's fifteen," I explained.

"Oh, that won't work." He said with a nod, he dug his fork into his food. "Tell her to hit me up when she is older." He winked.

"Well, you are officially on my list of men my sister should avoid," I commented.

"Is that because I'm on your list?" he commented.

"No," I answered shaking my head. Not when there was Tristan. "I can tell you are probably an only child," I added.

"No actually," he answered. "I have a little brother. He is nine and a total pain in the neck. I just hope it gets better as he ages." He continued.

Another thing we have in common.

"It gets worse," I assured him digging into my plate. I knew from my experience with Katy.

"I guess I'll just have to keep avoiding him," he chuckled.

I don't know at what moment Vincent, and I became comfortable with each other, but we were laughing, giving each other high fives, and sharing pictures of each other's family members. I even got to see a baby picture of him and Tristan in the bathtub. What I would do to get my hands on that picture again.

"He is adorable," I commented looking at a picture of his younger brother on his phone. "How do you hate a face like that?" I asked.

"Imagine on your eighteenth birthday getting the news that you are going to have a little brother. Who even decided to have children at that age?" He asked.

I shrugged.

"I can't be seen with him. Everyone pretty much just assumes that I'm his father. I mean me, at this age." He continued.

I laughed. I never had that problem with Katy. I was ten when she was born. I was just too excited to have someone to play with. If only I had foreseen the trouble.

Snapping back to reality I looked at my watch. My lunch break was nearly over, in less than ten minutes to be exact. I needed to get back to work. With the rumours circulating, I felt like I was on a probationary period and couldn't afford to make a mistake.

"I really have to leave, my lunch hour is almost over," I said standing from my chair.

He turned to look at his own watch. "Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes, I really have to leave." I insisted again. I pushed my chair in.

"Okay, I can drop you off." He suggested.

"No, it's okay." I insisted again.

The last thing I needed was to be linked up to another Montenegro. The rumours would go around saying I was an escort.

I rushed out of the restaurant, Vincent stayed behind to take care of the bill.

I guess my lunch with him wasn't too bad after all. Maybe Layla did mean to help me relax a little bit. Right now, I was more focused on not being late than on Layla's intentions.

The car that drove me here was waiting for me when I stepped out.

The driver welcomed me, once again opening my door.

With three minutes to spare, I was back at the hotel. I changed back into my uniform and returned my hair to its bum.

Just as the clock struck noon, ending my lunch break, I received a text from Marcus, informing me of the work he needed me to do. First, I needed to order some supplies for all the cleaning things we needed. Based on the spreadsheets, I think some of the staff members were stealing toilet paper.

Next, I was off to deliver some freshly laundered towels to a few rooms around the hotel.

While doing my rounds, I saw Leonardo walking towards me. He was closing in on me. Luckily, he seemed distracted as he was busy texting on his phone.

I had forgotten that he was on this floor.

I quickly grabbed one of the towels, using it to cover my face as I continued walking.

This only managed to work because he was distracted.

I didn't want to speak to him. He would look at me with his very kind eyes and I'd feel guilty about everything I was doing. I didn't want that right now.

I sighed, relieved that I had gotten away with it.

I made my first delivery. An elderly couple happily accepted the towels from my hands after I knocked on their door.'

I made my way to the elevator. Luckily Leonardo was gone.

I pressed the buttons, waiting for the elevator doors to open.

My phone blipped, dozens of screenshots were pouring in from Ivy.

I hadn't even had the chance to react or open any of the images when her message followed after.

'Why didn't you tell me about this?' it read.

My eyes widened as I took the opportunity to open one of the screenshots.

There were pictures of me and Vincent, both of us laughing and deep into conversation. Our faces were clear as day in every one of the pictures with articles already written about us.

It had barely been an hour, and all of this was already out.

I panicked, browsing through the articles. Most of those articles were written by writers who assumed I was a rich heiress. With that dress, who wouldn't?

Luckily, most of them were focused on Vincent with outrageous headlines like: 'Is the playboy billionaire finally ready to settle down?' or 'Who is his new love?' the most outrageous one being; 'Has the playboy finally found someone to tame his heart? "

Is that how celebrities felt when people posted fake news about them?

Weeks ago, I was anonymous with not so much as a Facebook profile and now I was on the cover of tabloids.

But who took those pictures? How did they even know that I'd be there?

Taking angles into consideration, the pictures were taken from within and outside the restaurant. This wasn't just a one-man job.

My blood couldn't help but boil. Was this what Layla intended? I know I agreed to help her but not at the cost of my reputation. If this was how things were going to be, our alliance would have to end a lot sooner.

This was really bad, as if my image hadn't taken a big enough knock.

I sighed, slipping my phone into my pocket.

The elevator doors finally opened.

From a distance, I saw Tristan walking toward me. I froze.

What was he even doing on this floor?

I had to remember the plan I had decided on. I couldn't be seen with him. Right now, all I wanted was to be invisible.

Realization hit. Had he seen the articles too? Could that be the reason he was here? If so, how mad was he going to be about this, if even mad at all?

Before he could fully realize it was me, I slipped into the elevator. I turned my head away as the doors closed.

I dodged another bullet.

I hadn't even responded to Ivy's text. I'd just have to do that later. Right now, my work was more important.

I pressed the button to the next floor, going on to continue with my delivery.

It took me just over half an hour to get all my deliveries done.

I sighed after making my final delivery, I was ready to finally do some office work that didn't involve so much walking.

I felt a hand on my waist. Before I had the chance to react, I was pulled back.

I gasped and froze as Tristan pressed me against the wall.

He pressed me against the wall with his body. With one hand, he blocked my left side, while with the other, he held me above.

"Didn't I tell you not to work so hard?" He reminded.

He was serious, his eyes searching mine.

I struggled to breathe as my heart throbbed.

All I could think about was how close we were and the tens of people who could walk in at any moment and see the two of us like this. Never mind the security cameras.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked.

"I-I'm not avoiding you." I stuttered.

He held my eyes with his, studying my every response.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asked.

"We are in the hall right now, anyone can see us," I answered.

That didn't seem to get the message across because he was still holding me in position.

He was right. Why was I so nervous? I didn't have to react this way. After all, he was the one engaged.

I tried pushing him away, but he remained unmoved. I gave up after a few attempts.

"Why are you bothering me? I'm not the one engaged." I said slapping his shoulder.

He was taken aback by my reaction as he took a step away from me.

"It's not like that," he answered.

He might have stepped back but he was still too close for my comfort. How was I supposed to think straight with him this close?

"We are not getting married. That was just part of a plan that my grandfather made up so that we could get people's attention off the robbery for a little while. The hotel's reputation was at stake. We'll be making an announcement soon to break off our engagement," he explained.

I was a bit relieved that it wasn't what I thought it was. I had been thinking the worst, that my fake baby would have a stepmother. But I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. What if he was trying to sweet-talk me just so he could weaken me?

"How come your mother seems to know nothing about it?" I questioned.

"My mother hates Madison. She'd just go around and tell everyone the truth anyway." He answered. He paused as the realization suddenly hit. "How would you know about my mother?" He asked.

My brain froze. I can't believe I let it slip. Of all the things I could have said.

I searched for an explanation in my heard. As far as he knew, his mother and I had only met twice, and we weren't close. No amount of lying in the world had prepared me for this.

Instead, I chose to change the subject.

"Did anyone ever tell you how gorgeous your hair looks today?" I asked, biting my lip.

His expression changed. It seemed to have worked to distract him.

I had assumed that he would continue pressing on it, but he slowly started closing the gap between us again.

He smiled back at me, his lips almost pressed against me. But just close enough to tease me.

But I couldn't take it, I closed the final gap between us as I captured his lips with mine.

He had a way of driving me away from all logic. Everything in me told me that I should just push him away and tell him the truth to end this whole fiasco. This is not to mention the number of people who could walk in at any moment. I would just confirm the rumours.

My brain decided to throw away all logic. He was quick to respond to the kiss, our lips moving in sync as everything else around us blared away. Things were becoming more heated, I knew if I didn't, I would become the next Kim Kardashian and it wouldn't be because of my looks.

I pulled away as I breathed heavily.

As both of us tried to gather ourselves, he rested his head on my neck.

I saw a shadow back away in a corner.

I blinked, almost in a panic, thinking it was one of the staff members.

I blinked again, this time seeing Madison for just a slit second before the shadow backed away into a corner.

But no, maybe I was just overthinking things. It couldn't be her. This wasn't even the floor on which her hotel room was situated.

She had consumed so much of our thoughts that I now saw her everywhere, even in moments like this.

Tristan moved away from my neck, his hand moving to my neck, tilting my face to meet his eyes again.

He looked at me and I looked at him and at that moment I couldn't get myself to think about anything else. Before we knew it, we were kissing again.

Right at that moment, I realized I had no plans of letting him go.

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A/N: Please tell me your thoughts on the story.

What do you think Madison will do when she finds out?

As always, please comment, vote, and share the story.