OWNED BY MR. MANRIQUIZ [THAT RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE]

CHAPTER 1

I’ve always believed dreams are stitched together, one thread at a time. Mine just happened to be silk, satin, and a whole lot of sleepless nights.

At twenty-five, I owned Magic Fashion Boutique, one of the most talked-about fashion boutiques in Linus City. Not bad for someone who used to sketch dresses on the back of her math notebooks in college. But this… this was only the beginning. My real dream? To become a designer whose name people from Paris to Milan whispered about in admiration.

And right now, that dream hinged on one thing—proving myself to Mr. Darious Manriquiz.

The ruthless, impossible-to-please CEO of Manriquiz Publication had chosen me to design the wedding gown of his fiancée, Lexi Bellington. Lexi Bellington. Even saying her name felt heavy. She wasn’t just anyone—she was the heiress of Hotel de Bellington, a name so powerful in Linus City it practically glittered on its own. If I could impress Lexi, if she wore my gown down that aisle, my name would be on every magazine cover and every fashion blog in the city.

No pressure, right?

I was sitting on the edge of Troy’s bed, my sketchpad open on my lap. He was still asleep beside me, his arm lazily thrown over his face. Troy, the charming son of Mayor Elian Cortez, was the kind of boyfriend most girls dreamed of. Polite, smart, politically bred to perfection… and yet, for the past thirty minutes, all I could think about was lace details and neckline cuts, not his soft breathing or how peaceful he looked sleeping.

Well, probably that's all I know about him.

I sighed, biting the end of my pencil as I looked at my latest sketch. The gown was elegant but bold—long, flowing sleeves made of sheer fabric, a deep yet tasteful backline, and hand-embroidered pearls cascading down like raindrops. Perfect for a woman like Lexi Bellington—classy, intimidating, but secretly longing to stand out.

My phone buzzed violently on the nightstand, pulling me out of my thoughts. I grabbed it and groaned when I saw the caller ID. Gwen.

“Morning, Gwen,” I answered, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“Miss Torres!” Gwen’s panicked voice almost made me drop the phone. “Lexi Bellington! She’s—she’s going to the boutique today. Anytime now! Like—like she could be there right now!”

My eyes widened. “What? She wasn’t supposed to visit until next week!”

“I know, I know!” Gwen’s voice cracked. I could practically see her fumbling around the boutique, probably dropping ribbons and tripping over fabric rolls. “She just called! She said she wants to ‘see the progress personally.’ What do I do? Should I—should I tell her you’re busy? Or sick? Or—”

“Don’t you dare say I’m sick!” I snapped, already jumping off the bed. “Keep her entertained. Offer her coffee, tea, whatever she wants. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty? Miss Torres, she’s a Bellington! What if she—”

“Gwen.” I took a deep breath, grabbing my bag with one hand while trying to smooth down my messy hair with the other. “Just keep her happy. Compliment her shoes, her hair, her family name if you have to. I’ll be there before she even finishes her first sip of coffee.”

Gwen whimpered something that sounded like “Okay!” before hanging up.

I turned to look at Troy, who was now sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice still groggy.

“Not really,” I said, pulling on my jacket. “Lexi Bellington is at my shop.”

Troy blinked. “The Lexi Bellington?”

“The one and only,” I muttered, checking my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my lipstick from last night had faded, and my blouse was slightly wrinkled. Great. Just perfect for meeting the most influential woman in the city.

Troy got up and walked over to me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. “Babe, you’re overthinking. You’re the best designer in Linus. If anyone can impress her, it’s you.”

I looked at him through the mirror. Troy always knew the right words to say. His confidence in me was one of the reasons I liked him. But today, it wasn’t about him—it was about me proving to the world, to Darious Manriquiz, that they didn’t make a mistake choosing me.

“I need to go,” I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck,” he said, smiling. “But good luck anyway.”

I smiled back before rushing out the door.

The drive to Magic Fashion Boutique felt like the longest fifteen minutes of my life. My heart was pounding the entire time, images of Lexi walking out the door with a disgusted look on her face haunting me.

When I finally parked in front of the boutique, I could already see Gwen through the glass window. She was nervously offering something—tea, maybe?—to a woman sitting gracefully on one of the plush chairs. Even from here, Lexi Bellington looked like royalty. Her long black hair was sleek and perfect, her cream-colored dress tailored to perfection, and her posture screamed elegance.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my jacket, and pushed open the glass door.

“Miss Bellington,” I greeted, putting on my warmest professional smile as I walked over. “I’m Callie Torres. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Lexi looked up at me, her gaze sharp and assessing. For a second, I felt like she was peeling away every layer of my confidence, judging whether I was worthy of even being in the same room as her.

Then, she smiled. A small, polite smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Miss Torres,” she said, her voice smooth and refined. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” I said lightly, though my hands were sweating.

“Mostly,” she replied, crossing her legs elegantly. “I wanted to see for myself why Darious insists on working with you. He usually doesn’t… compromise when it comes to quality.”

At the mention of Darious, my chest tightened for reasons I quickly shoved aside. “I assure you, Miss Bellington,” I said, straightening my posture, “your gown will be nothing less than perfect. I’ve prepared some sketches I’d love to show you, if you have time.”

Lexi raised an eyebrow, amused. “I have time. Impress me, Miss Torres.”

I smiled, though inside, I was a mess of nerves and determination.

This was it. The first stitch in my dream.

And I wasn’t about to let it unravel.

I laid the sketchbook on the glass coffee table between us, forcing my hands to stay steady even though my heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest.

Lexi Bellington sat across from me, legs crossed perfectly, back straight like she was born to be photographed at every angle—which, knowing her, she probably was. Gwen hovered near the corner, pretending to organize fabric swatches but failing miserably; she kept throwing me nervous glances like she was the one under Lexi’s sharp gaze.

“This is the main design I’ve been working on for you,” I said, flipping the sketchbook open to the first page. My voice came out more confident than I felt. “I tried to highlight your personality—elegance, power, but still with a touch of softness for the occasion.”

Lexi didn’t say anything. She just looked at the sketch, her dark eyes scanning every detail like a strict professor grading an exam.

I cleared my throat and leaned slightly forward, pointing at the flowing lines of the gown. “The fabric will be a custom-made silk blend, light enough to move comfortably but still structured so it won’t lose shape. The pearls will be hand-sewn to cascade down the back, creating a rain-like effect when you walk.”

Lexi tilted her head, still silent. Her expression was unreadable—neither impressed nor displeased.

“And,” I continued, flipping to another page, “I made two alternative versions, in case you’d like something more traditional.”