Falling for Lucien

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Celeste POV

Morning arrived more quickly than I planned for the next day, sunlight slicing through the curtains dancing over her mirror and tables. The rain had stopped, and for the first time since I’d opened my eyes in this world, I felt almost… alive.

Maybe it was the thrill of power after last night’s exchange with my parents, or it was the simple fact that I had survived the storm of humiliation without cracking.

Either way, I was happy to be awake, at least until I could solve my immediate problem or my marriage alliance. Maybe the longer I continued, I would find out how I could get back to my world and my time.

Since I landed in this world, I had barely had time to myself, so I hadn't thought much of it, but I still didn't know how I had gotten here, and I definitely didn't know how to get back. The closest knowledge I had on this was from transmigration novels and movies on YouTube, and so far I didn't have a system to guide me.

Freaking i***t shows couldn't even get that right.

I rose from bed, grabbing the robe along with me as I walked to the bathroom to take a shower so I could find breakfast and start working on something, or anything, at this point. Maybe visit a few libraries to see if time travel could be a thing. Anything to explain what the hell was happening now.

I walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom and opened the wardrobe door. I took one look at the pastel dresses in Celeste Arden’s closet and grimaced.

For someone who was my namesake, we had such vastly different tastes.

They were all wrong—too soft, too bright. I couldn't be bothered to wear those anymore. It was time to go shopping.

I grabbed my phone off the vanity and found the house manager's number and sent a brief message to her to make sure the driver knew to get the car ready.

Dressed in the only outfit that didn't scream baby pink, I walked to the car. The house was quiet, which meant no one was around. The chauffeur, with calm eyes, opened the door.

“Good morning, Miss Arden. Where to?”

“Bourne Atelier,” I said, sliding in.

“And don’t worry about time. I’ll be there for a while.”

By the time the chauffeur pulled up in front of Bourne Atelier, the most exclusive fashion house in the city, I’d already decided how I was going to take care of the Valen family.

The store’s crystal doors opened automatically, the scent of jasmine and wealth wrapping around me.

One of the sales attendants straightened immediately, their smiles polished to perfection.

“Miss Arden,” one of them breathed, recognition sparking.

“We saw the news last night. You’re so brave to come out today—”

“Show me your winter collection,” I interrupted smoothly.

“Something that says simple but refined; I don’t want flashy bright colors,” I whispered, and they froze, their expressions flickering with confusion, then admiration.

Within minutes, racks of sleek suits, tailored coats, and black silk gowns were presented before me.

I slipped into a fitted ivory blouse and high-waisted black trousers, the fabric hugging my figure like armor.

The old Celeste would have likely chosen something pink, but I wasn't very fond of the color itself.

When I looked in the mirror, I approved of this quiet heartily. Halfway through trying on a crimson coat, my phone began buzzing relentlessly.

I reached for it, irritation fading into curiosity as I saw the flood of notifications.

[BREAKING NEWS]: Valen Holdings stock down 6.2% amid rumors of Arden partnership withdrawal.

[Business Daily]: “Valen-Arden Alliance in Jeopardy?” Board members are silent as speculation grows.

[Market Now]: Investors fear destabilization of the Valen empire following the engagement scandal.

I blinked in surprise; my mother was faster than I expected, and she was quite effective too.

So the markets had already caught wind of the possibility that the Ardens might pull out.

Even though we hadn’t—yet—uncertainty was poison in high finance, and a single whisper could send entire corporations trembling.

They would bleed money slowly even before our investment was cut, and the corners of my lips curved in a slight smile.

I had barely started my revenge—yetit was already getting this fun.

As I sipped the champagne the attendant had offered, I scrolled through the social feeds, watching the same men who’d sneered at my humiliation now debating the “next move” like analysts dissecting a market pattern.

They didn’t know that the rules had changed.

The phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t news. It was a message from someone I had assumed would be the last person to contact me.

Lucien Valen

I grinned, now thoroughly amused, looking down to the message; it was a simple text, just one word.

No greeting.

No explanation.

Lucien Valen: Intriguing.

I stared at it, my heartbeat stuttering for half a second.

Intriguing.

A dozen meanings hidden in that single syllable—mockery, curiosity, challenge. I could almost hear his voice as he said it smooth and low, cutting through the air like smoke.

I typed back a response before I could overthink it; there was another buzz, and almost on cue, my screen lit up again.

Incoming call—Robert Valen.

I exhaled slowly, the corners of my mouth twitching with a slight grin.

Of course.

I didn’t answer the phone, just let it ring out, watching the name blink until it stopped. A moment later, a text appeared.

Robert Valen: Dinner. Tonight. 8 PM. You may come with your parents. No excuses.

I swallowed the last of my champagne and set the glass down. There it was—the first real move of the game.

Robert Valen himself was calling me to dinner; this meant I had thrown him so far off balance that he was resorting to tricks.

“Miss Arden?” the attendant asked hesitantly.

“Would you like to continue with the fitting?”

I turned back to the mirror.

looking at what I had on

“No,” I said softly.

“I’ll take everything.”

And I definitely meant everything.