Chapter Three: The Toast
1347 Words
Isabela walked around the hall, searching for a place to sit. She finally found a quiet corner where only a few heiresses had gathered.
Everyone else seemed to know each other. They hugged, laughed, and talked with ease. She felt completely out of place.
A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne. She paused for a second, then grabbed a glass and gave a quick nod.
She took a sip.
“Enjoying yourself?” Camila reappeared, her smile wide and too sweet.
“I’m trying to,” Isabela replied, watching a group of men in suits laugh near the fireplace.
“One minute, sister,” Camila said with a smirk.
She walked away before Isabela could respond, but not before giving a quick, almost unnoticeable glance to a man standing at the far end of the room.
He gave a small nod.
Camila moved casually toward a side hallway and met up with him near the stairs.
The man handed her a small packet of white powder.
“You’re sure this will work?” she asked.
“Never failed,” he replied smoothly.
“I booked Room 409. She’s in the light blue dress. I’ll handle the rest during the toast,” Camila said, her tone sharp. “Don’t screw this up.”
The man gave a crooked smile. “Relax, ma’am. I know the drill.”
At the other end of the gala hall, Lucia Delgo stood near the back bar, sipping a glass of whiskey. She wore a sharp black pantsuit that fit her perfectly, and her dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She didn’t smile or make small talk. She just watched the room they had spent months preparing.
An assistant leaned in. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine.” She smiled.
Her gaze drifted across the room to Santiago, who stood engaged in lively conversation with his business partners. Her expression darkened.
“You’ll be mine tonight, boss. Five years, and you didn’t even glance at me.”
She turned to a nearby waiter and pressed a folded napkin into his palm. Nestled inside was a thick envelope.
“Make sure Mr. Valdés Montero receives this specific drink during the toast,” she said.
The waiter raised an eyebrow. Lucia smiled coldly. “It’s worth more than your rent.”
Her phone buzzed.
She stepped away to answer, her voice low.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I called earlier. Your secretary said you weren’t available.”
“I am now.”
“I have a story for you. One that will blow up your ratings overnight.”
“Who is this?”
“Doesn’t matter. Santiago Valdés Montero and his secretary. Tonight, they’ll be together in his private suite. You could be the first network to break the scandal live tomorrow morning.”
“How do I know it’s legit?”
“Just be at the hotel tomorrow morning. Trust me.”
“And your name?”
“Call me a friend. Goodbye.”
Lucia hung up, her smirk returning.
“Finally. He’ll have no choice but to marry me.”
She turned back to the bar.
“Whiskey. Leave the bottle.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took a long swig. Then another. Her vision blurred slightly, but she didn’t care.
She whispered, “You’ll be mine by morning.”
The lights dimmed slightly, and a voice came over the speakers, confident and smooth.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please make your way to the main staircase. We’re about to start the welcome toast.”
Camila spotted a waiter near the entrance and stepped in front of him.
She slipped the powder into one of the glasses on his tray, then tucked an envelope of cash into his pocket.
“Give this to the woman in the blue dress.”
The waiter hesitated. Then nodded.
People began moving naturally toward the staircase, where the host stood holding a microphone.
Isabela followed the crowd, moving slowly. Her eyes scanned the room. She felt a little nervous.
Camila passed by again and leaned in just enough to whisper, “Try to smile.”
Isabela tightened her grip on her glass.
The host began speaking. “Tonight isn’t just about fashion or looking good, although there’s plenty of that. It’s about building something that lasts. Partnerships. Family.”
As he spoke, a waiter appeared beside Isabela, holding out a tray. “Would you like a new glass, señorita?”
She glanced at the one in her hand, still half full, but nodded anyway.
He handed her a new glass.
The host wrapped up his speech, and the room broke into polite applause.
“To new beginnings,” he said with a smile.
Everyone repeated it, some louder than others.
Isabela lifted her glass and took a sip.
Camila approached her again.
“Hope you’re having a good time.”
“Yes… just a little dizzy.”
“It must be because of the strong smell of the wine.”
“You should rest. I booked a room. Room 409. I locked the door for you.”
Isabela was about to decline, but she started feeling worse. Reluctantly, she walked out of the hall.
Isabela stepped into the hallway, barely keeping herself upright. Her legs felt unsteady, and she had to lean against the wall just to stay balanced. Her head was pounding, and everything around her felt off, like the floor was shifting beneath her feet. She didn’t plan to go to the room Camila mentioned. She just couldn’t think straight anymore.
It felt like the hallway was moving.
She saw the numbers on the doors blurring as she passed. 407, 408…
“Which room did Camila say”she murmured to herself her body feeling more uneasy.
She reached for 408, her limbs too heavy to go any farther. The door was already slightly ajar. She stepped inside.
The room was dim. Quiet. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the bed.
Santiago raised his glass and tapped it gently against the ones held by the board members around him. He smiled out of habit, not because he was enjoying himself. These kinds of events weren’t really his thing anymore. But being the face of the Montero name came with responsibilities. Showing up was one of them.
A waiter came by with a tray of champagne. Santiago didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t think twice. He took the glass and gave a quick, polite, “Thanks.”
He took a sip.
The taste was off. Bitter, a little sharp. But he figured it was just the type of champagne. Some of the pricier ones were like that.
He tried to rejoin the conversation, but something felt wrong. His vision started to blur around the edges, and the voices around him sounded far away, like someone had turned the volume down. His heart was beating faster than usual. He tugged at his tie, trying to act normal.
“I’m just gonna get some air,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
The next thing he knew, he was in the elevator. Or maybe he had already stepped out of it. He wasn’t sure. Everything felt foggy, like he was moving through a dream. He was in a hallway now, outside the guest suites, but he couldn’t remember how he got there.
His hotel key was already in his hand. Room 408. He didn’t even question how he remembered the number.
He fumbled with the keycard, finally managing to swipe it.
The door clicked open.
The room was dim, only the bedside lamp casting a soft glow. He stepped inside, rubbing his temples.
Then he saw her.
A woman, lying on the bed in a light blue dress. Barely conscious.
His body went still.
She turned slightly at the sound of the door. Her face came into view. Unfamiliar. Confused. Dazed.
Santiago blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
“What… what are you doing here?Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and rough with surprise.
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