A/N
Hey everyone! Do me a favour and lmk if you're still enjoying this. We're heading into the final chapters now, and I'm really hoping that by the end, you'll be just as intrigued (and impatient) for the next book as I am. Also hoping I stick the landing so no one ends up hating me... cue dramatic music👀
—Lucky x
🎶 There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths🎶
『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV
The restaurant is sleek and pale—marble floors, velvet chairs, crystal glassware that catches the light like diamonds. Even the cutlery looks heavy enough to be a weapon. Everything smells faintly of lemon zest, perfume, and polished surfaces. The kind of place where money doesn't whisper—it postures.
Immediately, I feel like I don't belong.
Blake walks beside me like she's going into battle.
Her spine is straight, her gaze sharp, her expression carved from something cool and unreadable. Her dark blouse is perfectly pressed, tucked into tailored black trousers that fall just right over her heels. Her hair is swept up and pinned with precision, exposing the length of her neck and the delicate line of her jaw. She looks untouchable. Like someone born of this world but long since tired of playing by its rules.
Her hand rests warm against my lower back, a quiet reminder. I'm here.
"Relax," she murmurs without looking at me, her voice smooth and low.
"I'm trying," I whisper back. "But I think I'm vibrating."
She smirks—barely there. "You're doing beautifully."
We're led through the dining room by a server who greets Blake by name, like he's used to seeing her glide in and out of rooms like this. The kind of familiarity that makes my stomach turn.
And then I see her.
Martha Bradley.
She's already seated in the corner, bathed in soft, flattering light. A martini rests near her manicured fingers. Her dress is cream silk, fitted perfectly to her frame, pearls at her throat, diamonds at her ears. Her blonde hair is coiled into an elegant chignon, not a strand out of place.
She rises slowly as we approach, and my breath catches.
Because of course this is Blake's mother.
She looks like an older, icier version of her daughter. The same bone structure. The same deliberate posture. The same cool elegance in her expression. But where Blake is composed, Martha is cutting. There's something brittle in her beauty. Something performative.
She smiles—but it's all teeth and no warmth.
"Darling," she says, leaning in to kiss the air beside Blake's cheek. "You look well."
"Mum," Blake replies coolly. "This is Alison."
Martha turns to me.
And I see it.
That flicker.
Her gaze sweeps over me like a scanner: from my boots to my secondhand black dress to the old leather jacket I didn't have the nerve to leave behind. My face. My posture. The space I take up. One long, silent inventory of everything I am—and everything I'm not.
I hold out my hand anyway. "It's lovely to meet you."
She takes it lightly, a cool, brief touch. "Likewise."
Her smile doesn't shift. Not even a fraction.
We sit.
The silence is the first thing I notice.
YOU ARE READING
If Only (GxG)
Romance~Book 1 of 2~ Nineteen-year-old Alison Greystone has crafted a peaceful life in London, focused on finishing school and preparing for university. After a troubled childhood, she lives with her brother George, balancing friends, a part-time job, and...
