Unfulfilled love

DRESSED IN DOUBT

—

Earlier that day, Vici had debated pulling a background check. It would’ve taken her ten minutes—less, even. But instead, she called Selene.

“He’s a big shot,” Selene had said. “Runs his own empire. Clean reputation. No scandals, no drama. Honestly? Sounds boring. But rich.”

Vici rolled her eyes. “Boring might be better than charming and manipulative.”

“You’re welcome,” Selene laughed. “Now go knock him out with that Monroe energy.”

She didn’t look him up after that.

If Selene said he was decent, she’d go with it.

—

Before Vici even stepped into her closet, her phone had buzzed with a message from her assistant.

*“Miss Monroe, details for tonight’s engagement just came in. 8:00 PM. Valemont District. Lavida Lounge—private room booked under Grey Holdings.”*

She stared at the name. *Grey Holdings?* That was a big name. No stranger to the business world.

*So he’s not just some desperate heir,* she thought. *Interesting.*

She dropped the phone onto her bed, not even bothering to respond. Time and place noted. That was all she needed.

—

Vici stood in front of her walk-in mirror, arms folded as her stylist adjusted the final touch on her sleek, wine-red gown. The dress was bold, powerful—just like her—but beneath the confidence, her mind wasn’t as calm.

She hated blind dates. Hated the way people looked at her like a prize to be won. This wasn’t about love—it never was. It was about alliances, names, power.

And tonight felt no different.

But this time, something itched at the back of her mind. A strange heaviness in her chest. She didn’t know why.

Selene had called earlier, teasing her. “You better not ditch this one. I heard he’s big—like, *your level* big.”

Vici scoffed. “They all say that until they sit across from me and realize I don’t play housewife.”

Still, she looked at herself again.

Hair—sleek. Makeup—subtle but sharp. Perfume—light jasmine. Her armor was in place.

“Miss Monroe,” her driver called softly through the door. “Your ride’s ready.”

She grabbed her clutch, took one last glance, and whispered to herself, “This is just another meeting.”

But deep down… she knew it wasn’t.

—

On the way to Valemont, Vici sat silently in the backseat of her sleek black sedan, city lights flickering across her face.

Her driver said nothing—he knew her moods well.

She stared out the window, lost in thought.

*Should I act sweet? Or stay cold, like I always do?*

She hated pretending. But she also hated wasting time. And if this man was anything like the others, one icy look would be enough to end the night early.

Still… something told her this one might not be so easy to shake off.

She smirked faintly to herself. “Let’s see what he’s really made of.”

And just like that, the car turned into the Lavida lounge

The car eased into the VIP parking garage of Lavida Lounge exactly at 8:27 PM.

But Vici didn’t move.

She sat still, one leg crossed over the other, eyes fixed on the dashboard clock. Her driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror but didn’t speak.

“Let him wait,” she said coolly. “Let’s see how patient this ‘big shot’ really is.”

By 8:39 PM, she finally stepped out, every move graceful and unbothered. The heels clicked like power on marble as she entered the building.

“Good evening, Miss Monroe,” a waiter greeted, almost bowing. “He’s been expecting you. Right this way.”

She didn’t reply—just gave a polite nod and followed.

The private lounge was dimly lit, oozing money and taste. She pushed the door open and saw him—

Sitting alone.

Not on his phone. Not checking the time. Just… calm.

Almost like he knew she’d make an entrance on her terms.

And just like that, she was intrigued.

—

Donovan looked up the moment the door clicked open.

His gaze locked onto her.

And for a second… he didn’t move.

No words. No blink. Just a sharp, unreadable stare that lasted a beat too long.

Then slowly—like a man who had seen something he wasn’t prepared for—he stood.

“Miss Monroe,” he said, voice calm but laced with something deeper.

Respect? Surprise? Something else?

He couldn’t tell.

But one thing was clear—she wasn’t what he expected.

And damn if she didn’t look like the ghost of someone he once knew.

He hid it quickly, offering a small nod as he gestured toward the seat across from him. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Vici smiled faintly, lowering herself into the chair. “I wanted to see how long you’d wait.”

He chuckled, low and smooth. “For some people, you wait.”

—