VALENTINA
"Sir," I began, "are you being serious right now?"
He shrugged.
"It's your choice," he said casually.
My gaze darted around the hall and fell on Nate. He was staring at me, his expression as unreadable as ever.
When he caught me staring, he glanced away. I turned back to see Brianna still laughing silently.
When I turned to face the man, he was no longer looking at me. He was engrossed in his phone, typing gently.
"I will—"
The sound of metal clinking softly against glass rippled through the air, cutting me off.
My gaze followed the sound and landed on the host standing before the mic. A petite woman dressed in a black luxe tailored suit, with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and lips painted bright red.
With a glass and spoon in hand, she said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we are all here for the same thing."
I stood up and found a seat for myself.
"Tonight Luxera celebrates its third anniversary." Applause followed. "And we'd like to use this medium to thank everyone who has embarked on the journey with us. We value all of you." She smiled as another round of applause filled the room.
She cleared her throat.
"As y'all know, I am in charge of running this brand, but what you don't know is—I am not the true owner," she said with a smile.
What was she saying?
I had patronized this brand for years. Everyone knew her as the CEO.
The room filled with confusion, and people began to whisper among themselves.
"It doesn't call for commotion because tonight I'm going to introduce you to that person." She smiled.
The room fell silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "I give you the CEO and founder of Luxera—Valentina Pierce."
The room held its breath at the mention of my name. Heads snapped in my direction, whispers of disbelief spreading across the room.
The moment the spotlight fell on me, my gaze instinctively found Nate's and Brianna's. The shock on their faces was literally comical this time.
A reaction I took satisfaction in.
Brianna's eyes widened to the extent that they looked like they would pop out at any minute.
I smiled at them and mouthed, "Hey losers."
With that, I put my shades on, stood up, and walked majestically to the stage as rounds of applause echoed through the hall.
"Hello, everyone," I said as I reached for the microphone. "My name is Valentina Pierce, and I'm the CEO of Luxera. I ran this brand for years with the help of my assistant and best friend—Hannah. I'd like to brief you on the short history of Lux."
The revelation made headlines for days.
[Former wife of billionaire—Nate Standford, who disappeared without a trace three months ago, has returned, publicly sharing the news of their divorce and revealing her ownership of the famous designer brand—Luxera.]
The internet went crazy. They even named me Woman of the Year.
I got several invitations from famous news channels, podcasts, and business proposals from several brands.
A laugh escaped me as I sat by the side of the swimming pool, scrolling through the numerous comments on my page while sunbathing.
Suddenly, my phone began to buzz, an unknown number flashing across the screen. Usually, I would have declined immediately, but something in my gut told me to pick up.
"Hello," I said cautiously.
"Is this Valentina?" a male voice replied, calm but cutting.
"Depends on who's asking," I answered, turning on the call recorder.
"I'm reaching out to tell you that your life is in danger. Tread cautiously and be careful of who you trust—especially those within your inner circle."
What the hell?
Is this some kind of a prank call?
"And who are you?" I began. "Why should I trust you, and how do I know this is not some kind of prank?"
"I guess you'll never know."
With that, the line went dead, leaving me in suspense.
I barely had time to process the whole thing when my phone buzzed again.
A text.
I hesitated and my heart did a double backflip, tension building up inside me.
One tap and the text opened.
Unknown number: Get dressed. My driver will pick you up at 6. Don't be late.
I typed back a response: Who is this?
I waited for what felt like eternity before another text came in.
Unknown number: Your date.
Immediately, it clicked—the man from the event. I promised him a date.
A few hours later, I stepped out in a black silk slip dress that fell mid-calf, simple and fitted.
My hair was down in soft waves. My makeup was minimal—clean skin, light mascara, nude gloss.
Black pointed stilettos finished the look as I walked toward the waiting Rolls-Royce Phantom. The driver stepped out, rounded the car, and opened the passenger door for me.
As I slid into the car, my phone buzzed multiple times.
The screen lit up with four emails displaying across it. They all said the same thing—contract termination.
"What the hell?" I muttered.
I read through the emails, and they all said the same thing, almost as if the text had been copied and pasted—it felt fabricated.
This could not be a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidence.
I dialed Hannah's number, and the words she spoke punched the air right out of my lungs—six more contract termination emails.
At that rate, I had already lost 45% of my revenue.
These were potential clients.
Someone was definitely behind this, and there was only one person I could think of—Nate, that bastard.
As I stepped out of the car, I saw the man pacing in front of the restaurant, looking all hot and bothered.
"You're late," he said, glancing at his wristwatch.
"I didn't drive myself here, remember?" I said, rolling my eyes.
He let out a sigh of frustration, still pacing.
My face twisted in confusion, and I couldn't help but ask, "What's the problem?"
"Long story," he said.
I sighed. Yeah, me too.
"Look, I hate to say this, but I don't think I can go through with this whole date thing," I said.
"Right, me too," he said calmly.
Good. He understood.
"What if we ditch this date and get married instead, White Phoenix?"