The sparks of jealousy

Lina’s POV

The next day began with yet another whirlwind of activity. Zara’s parents had arranged for a high-profile interior designer to finalize the décor for the mansion, turning it into an even more extravagant venue for the upcoming gala.

I was sitting in the lounge, pretending to review a list of guest names, when Zara walked in, dressed impeccably in a fitted blazer and slacks. She looked effortlessly polished, as always, and I hated how easily she pulled it off.

Trailing behind her was the designer—a tall, striking woman named Mira, who oozed confidence. She greeted everyone warmly, but her attention lingered on Zara a little too long for my liking.

“Zara,” Mira said, her voice dripping with charm. “You have such a great eye for detail. It’s always a pleasure working with you.”

Zara smiled politely, but I caught the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes. “Thanks, Mira. Let’s focus on making this event perfect.”

I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, “Oh, she’s perfect, all right.”

“What was that?” Zara asked, glancing at me.

“Nothing,” I said, plastering on a fake smile.

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Zara’s POV

I wasn’t oblivious to Lina’s sudden shift in mood. She was quieter than usual, her sharp retorts replaced by short, clipped responses. I caught her glaring at Mira a few times, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was bothering her.

As Mira and I discussed the centerpiece options, I felt Lina’s gaze burning into my back. It was oddly… endearing.

When Mira leaned in to show me a swatch of fabric, I couldn’t resist glancing over at Lina. Her jaw was tight, and her fingers were drumming against the armrest of her chair.

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping away from Mira. I walked over to Lina, leaning down so only she could hear me. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said curtly, not meeting my eyes.

I smirked. “You sure? You look like you’re about to throw that clipboard at someone.”

Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, and she finally looked up at me. “She’s just… too much.”

“Mira?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly who I mean,” she shot back.

I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Are you jealous, Lina?”

She scoffed. “Of course not. Don’t flatter yourself.”

But her crossed arms and defensive tone told a different story.

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Lina’s POV

Later that afternoon, Zara found me in the garden, where I’d retreated to cool off. She approached with two cups of tea, handing one to me without a word.

“Thanks,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze.

She sat down beside me on the bench, her shoulder brushing against mine.

“You know,” she began, her tone lighter, “if you have a problem with Mira, you could’ve just said so.”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

Zara tilted her head, studying me with that infuriatingly perceptive look of hers. “Lina…”

“What?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

She smirked, leaning closer until our faces were just inches apart. “You don’t need to worry about Mira. She’s not my type.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I hated the effect her words had on me.

“And what is your type?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Zara’s gaze flickered to my lips for a fraction of a second before she leaned back with a sly smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Before I could respond, she reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. It was such a small, intimate gesture, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

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Zara’s POV

As the evening approached, we found ourselves in the study, going over the final guest list for the gala. Lina was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her focus on the papers spread out in front of her.

“Why do we need to invite this many people?” she grumbled, circling a name with unnecessary force.

“It’s all about appearances,” I said, shrugging.

She shot me a glare. “I hate appearances.”

I chuckled, sitting down beside her. “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re angry, you know that?”

Her glare softened, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. “You’re lucky I tolerate you.”

“I feel so honored,” I said dryly.

She laughed, and the sound was warm and genuine, filling the room in a way that made my chest tighten. On impulse, I reached out and brushed my fingers against hers. She stilled, her laughter fading as she looked at me.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing,” I said, my thumb grazing the back of her hand.

For a moment, we just sat there, the space between us charged with unspoken tension. Then, before I could overthink it, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

Her eyes widened, and she stared at me, her lips parting as if to say something.

“Goodnight, Lina,” I said, standing up and heading for the door before she could respond.

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Lina’s POV

I sat there for a long time after Zara left, my cheek still warm where her lips had touched.

What was happening between us?

Whatever it was, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. But one thing was certain—I wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Mira, come between us.

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