49:
1107 Words
“We're here. Are you ready?” Javier asked her gently.
They arrived at an elegant establishment. She didn’t need to guess how beautiful it was inside because just from the street, she could already see the high-end sports cars parked outside. Luckily, Javier had a reserved parking spot, so they didn’t have any trouble finding a place.
She nodded. She needed to be brave. She had to be strong. This was the day she had been waiting for: the day her path would cross again with Angelo Fuentebella—the devil, her husband. “I’m more than ready.”
Javier smiled at her response. “Then, let’s make this night shine the brightest.”
He got out of the car and helped her out. Both of them wore masquerade masks, and she still wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, unsure if wearing them was a good choice. She didn’t want them to look foolish.
But when she saw some of the other guests in the parking lot also wearing masks, she felt more at ease. They walked toward the front desk where the guests’ invitations were being checked.
From outside, she could already smell the expensive perfumes used at the banquet party. It was overwhelming—like the scent of wealth. Her attention was caught by a woman stepping out of a car. She wasn’t wearing a mask, and her night gown was a striking red.
The woman was beautiful—tall, fair-skinned, and sexy. The tight-fitting gown suited her perfectly, making her look like a model. She walked confidently towards the front desk, head held high.
The woman handed over her invitation, and as soon as the staff read her name, their eyes widened, and they quickly bowed, showing respect to the woman in front of them. “You may enter now, Miss Aura.”
She turned to Javier. “Do you know her?”
“Why? Don’t tell me you’re jealous, my dear ‘wife’?” he asked with a grin.
She rolled her eyes, a full 360 degrees. “Of course not! I’m just asking if you know her because I have a feeling,” she denied.
Javier’s face turned serious. “What are you feeling?”
“She’s beautiful, obviously wealthy, the standard for most men, and she seems smart. I’m certain she’ll catch Angelo’s attention. A woman’s presence is one of Angelo’s weaknesses. I’m sure he’ll do everything to talk to this Miss Aura,” she said confidently.
She knew Angelo well enough after all their time together. He had made it clear more than once that he wished she was like the women he liked.
“Are you worried that this woman will steal the spotlight that should be yours with Angelo tonight?”
She shook her head. She had a different feeling she couldn’t explain. “No. I don’t feel that way. Believe me or not, I don’t feel any animosity toward her. I don’t even feel threatened by her. I just… can’t explain it, but I feel something different.”
Javier seemed surprised by what she said. "Well, then, I think everything will be explained once we get inside."
The staff at the front desk didn’t recognize them because of their masks, but from their scent, posture, and clothes, it was clear that the staff had an idea they were important people.
"Good evening, may I have your invitation card, please?" one staff member asked politely.
Javier handed over the invitation. When the staff member saw who it was on the card, their eyes widened and they almost coughed. "O-Oh, we didn’t realize it was you, Mr. and Mrs. Romanov. Please, come inside!"
Javier assisted her as they walked, since her gown was long. She saw how two staff members nudged each other, seemingly blaming one another for not recognizing them immediately.
She almost had to close her eyes from the brightness that greeted them inside. The room shimmered in gold, every inch designed to exude opulence. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the high, vaulted ceilings, casting a soft, warm glow over the space. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, the kind that hinted at old money and whispered stories of wealth passed through generations. A deep burgundy carpet stretched across the floor, so plush it muffled even the sharpest of heels.
Tables, draped in white satin cloths, were scattered throughout the room, each one centered with towering floral arrangements—roses, orchids, and lilies—so perfectly arranged they looked almost unreal. The scent of money mixed with expensive perfumes lingered in the air, as servers in tailored black uniforms moved seamlessly through the crowd, offering trays of champagne in crystal flutes.
The guests—each one a picture of wealth and influence—moved with a quiet arrogance. The men, sharply dressed in tailored tuxedos, stood with a casual confidence, their watches gleaming under the lights, subtly signaling brands that most would only dream of. Women, statuesque and poised, floated across the room in gowns that whispered luxury. Silks, satins, and velvets shimmered with every step, while diamonds and pearls sparkled at their throats, on their wrists, and in their ears. Each one looked effortlessly perfect, their smiles practiced, conversations light but layered with unspoken competition.
In one corner, an older gentleman with silver hair and an air of quiet authority discussed investments, his cufflinks catching the light as he raised a glass of vintage wine. Nearby, a woman in a floor-length emerald gown laughed softly, her lips painted a sharp red, the diamonds in her necklace almost blinding under the chandelier’s glow.
The banquet hall pulsed with power—every movement, every look exchanged between guests spoke of deals made in private rooms, of fortunes that could topple empires. This party was a display, a gathering of those who ruled behind closed doors, where one’s wealth wasn’t just flaunted, it was the very air they breathed.
It was her first time attending such a party, so she felt completely out of place. Fortunately, Lucy had taught her how to act in these scenarios, and she had Javier by her side.
Javier whispered to her, "We can’t stay together all night. Angelo won’t approach you if I’m by your side. But I’ll keep an eye on you. And don’t worry, I won’t entertain any women, my dear ‘wife’. Good luck." She smelled his fragrant breath and cologne, which helped relax her.
"Are you sure I can handle this?"
"You can absolutely handle it. Speaking of the devil, Angelo’s here."
Her heart pounded at his words. This was it! Their paths were about to cross!
- Writer
