My broken love

CHAPTER4

Chapter 4: The Billionaire's Proposal

Vivian POV

On my kitchen table, a dark spot against the white, was the black gala invitation. Three days had passed since I decided I had to attend the gala, three days since I received that scary text message, and three days after John handed me the divorce papers.

My heart still felt like a piece of glass had broken within it, and my brain was still hurting. However, a little, tough part of me understood I needed to be strong.

I was without a fancy dress. I felt as like all of my lovely clothing belonged to a different, more contented Vivian. I took clothing out of my wardrobe and let them drop to the ground in a dejected heap.

They all had memories of John. My eyes glistened when he heard the blue one. He enjoyed seeing me dance in the red one. No. I was unable to wear them.

Then I noticed it. I created this modest black garment years ago for a tiny art exhibition. It wasn't ostentatious, but it was lengthy and flowed well. It was easy. Perhaps too basic for a large event.

However, it was the one thing I had that didn't seem like a dashed hope. I raised it. It seems uninteresting. Too simple.

Suddenly, a thought came to me. I was still a designer, even if my business was fading. My hands and my thoughts were still with me. I could add something unique to this garment. I could claim it as my own.

I took a stroll to my little design studio, which was really an extra room in my home. It was disorganized, with drawings and pieces of fabric all over the place. But I was content there.

I worked for hours. I discovered a silky, black velvet ribbon, some lace fragments, and some glittering beads. After feeling useless for days, my fingers began to move purposefully. Every stitch I made was a little gesture of optimism. I embellished the neckline with a little motif that resembles stars dropping into a deep pool.

I worked the ribbon into a gentle curve around the waist. The simple black outfit began to transform gradually. It wasn't as elegant as the ones I wore before. However, it was powerful. I recognized it.

By the time I finished, it was nearly time to go. I turned to face the mirror. My face was pale, and my eyes were still red from sobbing. However, the outfit was stunning. I felt somewhat taller and little bolder as a result.

I located my little, worn-out handbag. I just had a little lipstick, my phone, and a small, square-folded letter that John had once written to me in it. "You make my world beautiful." I almost tossed it aside. However, I kept it. I still had the notion that it wasn't all a hoax.

It seemed weird to take a cab to the gala. I could hardly hear the driver as he discussed the weather. I could feel my pulse pounding like a drum. What's going to occur tonight?

Would I discover answers? Or just more suffering?

The cab arrived to the imposing structure. It was enormous, with dazzling lights and gleaming glass. Elegantly dressed people were getting out of pricey vehicles.

They all seemed so happy and carefree. In a world full of enormous, vibrant butterflies, I felt like a little, lost mouse.

I inhaled deeply. "You can do this, Vivian," I said to myself in a whisper. "Be strong."

The large, gleaming doors opened and I entered. The fragrance of sumptuous food, laughing, and music filled the air inside.

There were hundreds of people around, carrying sparkling beverages and chatting loudly. Everything glittered as lights glowed down from the lofty ceiling.

I felt little. Even with my unique embellishments, my basic black dress seemed quite uninteresting. The others seemed as if they were featured in a magazine. I saw influential people, wealthy people, and renowned individuals. John's whole universe.

I made an effort to keep my head up, but my eyes were constantly searching for him. Where had he gone? Would he notice me? How would he respond?

Then I caught sight of him.

He was conversing with several suit-clad males while standing next to a huge glass wall. In his black tuxedo, he seemed even taller and more powerful. I didn't recognize the smooth, courteous grin he was wearing. His blue eyes gleamed in the intense light, and his black hair was flawless. He had a royal appearance.

My stomach turned over. He seemed so calm and usual. As like he hadn't just destroyed my life.

I made an effort to blend in with the throng and disappear. However, it was useless. He turned his head slowly, as if sensing my gaze. His piercing blue eyes met my across the packed room.

His grin vanished. His expression became motionless. Like that day in the kitchen, exactly.

We merely gazed at one another for a long time. Everything appeared to disappear, even the laughs and the music. He and I were alone. and every shattered fragment that separates us.

Then he began to move. directly in my direction.

My heart continued to race. My hands were chilly. What was it he desired? When I arrived, was he upset? Would he scream at me?

He came to a halt just in front of me. I could smell his old favorite fragrance since he was so near.

Now, however, it simply felt weird. Even up close, there was a little flare of something different in his eyes, which were still icy. Surprise, perhaps?

"Vivian," he whispered in a quiet, almost whispery voice that was lost in the gala's cacophony.

"John," I said in a trembling voice. I made an effort to sound tough.

His gaze lingered on my clothes as he examined me from head to toe. His brow furrowed slightly. "You came." It was more of a statement than a question.

I responded, "You invited me," attempting to seem courageous. "On our anniversary, no less." The last words sounded harsher than I intended.

He clenched his jaw. He briefly averted his gaze before turning it back to me. "Right." He hesitated, and I assumed he was about to say something hurtful. However, he didn't.

His words, "I need to talk to you," He spoke in a serious tone that was neither icy nor kind. "In private. Come with me."

Without waiting to see whether I would follow, he turned and left. I paused. This seemed risky. I had come for answers, however.

I pushed my way through the mob to follow him. He led me down a silent corridor, through a little door set into the wall, and into a tiny, opulent office. There was a single large desk and many seats, and it was gloomy. The gala's clamor had long since dissipated.

The room was silent when he shut the door behind us. Too silent.

Reaching the large desk, he switched on a little light. Long shadows were cast by its gentle light. He gazed at me from behind the desk. The dark light made it difficult to discern his face.

"Why did you invite me, John?" My voice trembled once again as I asked. "Why now? What would you like?

He inhaled deeply. "I know about your company, Vivian."

My eyes became big. He was aware. He knew, of course. For a long time, he was in charge of the financial aspect. My gut knot became tighter. "And?"

"It's in trouble," he said bluntly. "Very problematic. It's almost gone.

I felt my cheeks flush hot. It was embarrassing. "How do you know?"

Simply, "I still get reports," he added. "I’m connected to everything." He hesitated. "I am also aware of the calls you have been receiving. Regarding the 'pay up' message.

My mouth fell open. Did he also know about that? How? "Who… who are they?" With little more than a whisper, I asked. "What do they want?"

He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. In the low light, his eyes seemed more serious and less icy. "Vivian, it's a debt. A large one. from a previous loan I obtained for your business. to aid in its quicker growth."

A loan? Did he borrow money? My thoughts were racing. He never mentioned a debt to me. He always claimed to be investing just his own funds.

"However, I don't comprehend. "Why now?"

"Because," he stated without raising his voice, "it was bound to us." to our union. And they want their money back now that we're no longer married. Everything. Very quickly.

I swam my head. It was worse than I had anticipated. In addition to failing, my business was drowning in a covert debt. John had taken out a debt.

"So what do I do?" With a hint of urgency in my voice, I asked. "John, I don't have that much money. My business has died.

He gave me a weird expression as he gazed at me. A mixture of things I couldn't make out. Slowly, "There's a way," he said. "A means of preserving your business. a strategy to prevent such individuals from stealing everything from you.

My heart leaped. I hope. A little, delicate spark of it. "How? How can I do that?

He stopped, and the little office seemed very quiet. His eyes were serious and somewhat inscrutable as he glanced aside and then back at me.

"Marry me," he proposed. "Again."

My throat tightened each breath. Get married to him? The guy who, on our anniversary, just handed me divorce papers? The guy who abandoned me with a hidden debt and a failing business? Once again, my brain swirled. There was no lifeline here. It was a nightmare. This was

He continued, his voice icy once again, "But not for love," piercing my astonishment. "It's simply business this time. An agreement. for half a year. to keep your business afloat. Following that, we part ways. permanently."

My head whirled. Get married to my ex-husband John for business purposes? Six months? To keep my business afloat? The guy who shattered my heart was promising to make things right, but only if I re-bonded with him in a loveless manner.

A bargain with the devil was made. And while I fixed my eyes on his icy, unblinking eyes, a terrifying thought crossed my mind: What is the other secrets was he hiding from me?