A False Heiress's Guide to Love and Power

As soon as Eddie was out of sight, Cole relaxed, the tension draining from his shoulders in an instant.

Alessia swung his hand playfully, then leaned in so close their noses almost

touched.

Cole froze, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes flickered to her rosy lips. “W–what’s up?” he stammered, blinking rapidly before glancing away. There was a guilty edge to his voice, and the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Just watching someone get all jealous for no reason,” Alessia teased, ruffling his hair with a grin.

“I was not jealous,” Cole muttered, his protest barely audible.

Alessia didn’t quite get it, but since Cole never really crossed any lines, she let it go. Besides, she found his little bouts of jealousy pretty endearing.

Even Alessia found Cole’s animosity toward Eddie a bit odd. If he was jealous, it should’ve been of Tristan Hollis. After all, their debut single had been born from three grueling days spent together–writing side by side, living on takeout, tweaking lyrics until dawn. Eddie, on the other hand, had only ever been introduced to Xander through her. That was it.

And honestly, even if Eddie did harbor some feelings for her, he’d never say a word. He wasn’t like Tristan, who could throw caution to the wind. Eddie always chose the safest path, never the boldest. If he sensed things weren’t going his way, he’d retreat before risking it all.

Confessing to Alessia? That was a dead–end street he’d never venture down–he wouldn’t gamble everything just to lose it all.

he was preparing for battle? Logically, Eddie was the most

wouldn’t pry. Within the boundaries of friendship, she didn’t see the need to avoid anyone; if things ever crossed a line, she’d make

home. It’s the

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12:39

Cole suggested. “Tomorrow we can

Cole smiled faintly, ruffling her

toes, and cupped his face

wide and bright, shining under

couldn’t help but

pulled up to her building, a familiar car was already

from his expression, she knew he recognized it

forehead to hers as he

rolled her eyes, but her tone was playful. “What could we possibly

than a small boy and a golden retriever

Tate!” York’s cheeks were flushed from the cold, his eyes shining as he

them with his tongue lolling out, clearly