Chapter 3
Sloane and I agreed to host a gala night for the public announcement and to celebrate the rebirth of DeLacroix Couture Luxury House. The event was being held at the H?tel de Paris Monte Carlo, where the city's most elite business owners and aristocrats had gathered.
I sighed as I stood at the entrance, guards lingering around the perimeter, securing the grounds. The venue loomed ahead, golden light spilling from its arched windows as laughter and conversation drifted out—discussions no doubt about business and investments.
Smiling faintly at the grandeur, I clicked my tongue, turning toward the horizon. That's when I saw her. She stepped out of her car with the same effortless grace I remembered, and my throat tightened as I instinctively adjusted the lapel of my blazer.
"Damn," I muttered under my breath, unable to look away. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?"
Sloane spoke briefly with the valet before her eyes found mine.
She tilted her head, offering me a faint smile, then dismissed the valet and began walking toward me.
She wore a red silk slip gown with thin straps, cut to perfection, the fabric hugging her figure with deliberate boldness.
A daring slit revealed glimpses of her leg as her heels clicked against the pavement.
Her hair was styled in a high bun, exposing the elegant line of her neck and her collarbone.
I swallowed hard as she stopped in front of me, her hand brushing from my shoulder down to my chest. "Have you been waiting long?" she asked softly, looking up at me.
Shaking my head, I hummed. "No," I said simply, my eyes fixed on hers.
She nodded, her gaze sweeping over me. "You look good," she said, her eyes flicking over my ivory pantsuit. Then she glanced toward the venue, about to step away when I caught her hand.
"Sol," I said, my voice almost trembling. She looked down at my hand gripping hers, then back at me, raising a brow.
I faltered, my chest tightening. Every time I looked into her eyes, the weight of my past mistakes crashed back. Scoffing at myself, I loosened my hold. "You look beautiful," I murmured instead.
To my surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, she tightened her grip on my hand and tugged me toward the venue. "I know I'm beautiful," she said lightly. "But thanks for the reminder."
I let her lead me inside, walking just a step behind, our hands still entwined.
My lips curved into a smile despite myself.
I'd missed her warmth—the racing in my chest, the wild rhythm of my heart that refused to settle.
Twelve years had passed since we'd last touched, yet nothing had changed for me.
It was still Sloane. It had always been her.
"Sol, wait," I urged, pulling her aside. She blinked, frowning slightly as she glanced around.
"What is it?"
My hand remained clasped with hers as I reached into the hidden pocket of my blazer with the other. With a nervous laugh, I pulled out a velvet box and opened it, revealing a ring.
She blinked, looking from the box to me. "Why are you giving me this?"
"You said you wanted the marriage to be public," I explained, clearing my throat. "If people notice you're not wearing a ring, they'll doubt us. So... here."
She scoffed, one brow arched high. "Wow. You're really leaning into this act, aren't you?"
"You could say that," I chuckled softly. "Besides... it's not like I'll ever get married again, right?"
Her face gave nothing away. I slipped the ring onto her finger anyway, smiling faintly as the diamond caught the light. "That one's for our 'engagement.'"
Before she could speak, I pulled another small box from my pocket. "And this..." I began, opening it carefully.
Her eyes widened as she immediately pulled her hand back. "Ro," she said firmly, her tone edged with warning. "Are you out of your mind?" She laughed under her breath, then stepped closer to me, lowering her voice. "Why are you trying to give me that? That's your heirloom."
"What's wrong with that?" I asked gently. "My grandmother gave it to me, and told me to give it to the one I'd marry. And since that's you..." I swallowed. "I want you to have it."
She shook her head sharply. "No. I can't accept it." She turned as if to walk away, but I caught her arm and drew her back.
"Sol, please," I whispered, pulling her closer. "Just let me do this. I know this is only business for you, but at least let me treat you better than I did before."
Her laugh was low, disbelieving. She rubbed her temples, eyes flashing. "You don't actually think you can win me back with this, do you? Be serious, Ro. This is business. One wrong move and I can undo everything keeping your company alive." Her gaze sharpened into a warning.
"I know, Sol," I said quietly. "I know you hate me for the past. But still—I want you to have this." My hand shook slightly as I slid the heirloom ring onto her finger. Raising her hand to my lips, I pressed a kiss against her knuckles.
For a moment, her eyes locked with mine. Then she cleared her throat, pulling her hand away. "Enough of this nonsense. We shouldn't keep the guests waiting."
She turned, heading toward the grand hall.
"Sol, I love you," I whispered to her back.
She froze mid-step and glanced at me, frowning. "Did you say something?"
I shook my head with a faint smile. "Nothing." I moved to her side, my hand brushing lightly against her waist as I guided her forward. "Come on. Tonight, you'll own the spotlight."
Inside, my heart echoed with the silent vow: Sol... let me do better this time. Even if it's only business to you, let me make up for the mistakes I can never undo.
?·???°???°???·?
Sitting inside the private room, Sloane sat so close beside me that I could feel her warmth.
Across from us, the media group we'd hired prepared for a special coverage interview about our joint venture.
The gala still buzzed outside, the host taking over after our big announcement. My company—our company now—was reborn.
I crossed one leg over the other, my hand resting on Sloane's waist as she laughed with the interviewer. I couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips. She was always a charmer.
"So... Ms. Duvall," the interviewer began carefully, glancing between us before focusing on Sloane. "This may be a little personal. Do you think Ms. DeLacroix being an intersex woman might be a hindrance to your marriage?"
The room stilled. Sloane's eyes flicked to me, and my chest tightened. I knew this question would resurface one day—it always did, no matter how carefully I built my image. Straightening in my seat, I braced myself.
Clearing her throat, Sloane placed her hand on my knee, rubbing gentle circles as if to anchor me.
"I knew Ro back in our university days. We've been together long enough for me to know exactly the kind of person she is.
" She smiled faintly at me before turning back to the interviewer.
"Yes, she's intersex. I believe the public already knows she falls under Ovotesticular Disorder, what used to be called true hermaphroditism.
" Sloane leaned forward, her chest brushing against my thigh, her voice firm.
"But I love her for who she is, not for what she is. Why should anyone pry into something so personal? Marriage is between the two of us. That's all people need to know. She is a woman—not just a woman, but my woman."
My breath caught as her words wrapped around me. Instinctively, my arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer. My defenses had always been strong, but with one touch, she could unravel me.
Sloane chuckled softly. "People call her the Ice Queen of Monaco, but I know the warmth she hides behind it.
Ro is extraordinary. And I hope citizens learn to stop labeling others by their sexuality.
Respect who they are. Because despite our differences—status, power, sexuality—we're all human.
My stand will never change. I will marry Ro regardless, because she's the only one I want. "
Our eyes met, her hand brushing my cheek tenderly, and for a second, I forgot we weren't alone.
The interviewer's smile softened. "That's truly beautiful, Ms. Duvall. Thank you both for sharing this moment with us. I wish you happiness in your marriage, and prosperity for both your companies."
"Thank you so much," Sloane said as we both rose from our seats and shook the interviewer's hand.
We held our smiles until the room finally emptied, leaving just the two of us. I exhaled, louder than intended, and hurried to the chiller for a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, I took a long gulp, letting the coolness chase away the heat in my chest.
"I didn't know they'd ask something like that," Sloane said suddenly. Her voice made me pause mid-sip. I glanced at her, then kept drinking.
Licking the water from my lips, I tilted my head and chuckled. "It's not a big deal. I'm used to it. Just another childish jab, really." I placed the bottle down and slipped a small vial of pills from my pocket, shaking it lightly. Not much left.
Sloane's gaze flicked toward it. I felt the weight of her eyes on me, but pretended not to notice. Popping the cap open, I shook one pill into my palm and swallowed it dry. Another gulp of water followed, to wash away the bitter taste.
Her voice cut through the silence. "What's that for?"
I capped the bottle, then looked at the pills before tucking them back into my pocket. "Ah," I laughed softly, trying to make light of it. "Just my meds for anemia. You know how it is—stress, lack of sleep. Businesswomen like us hardly get a break."
Sloane looked like she wanted to respond, but her phone buzzed. She blinked, glanced at the screen, then waved me off. "Go on ahead to the hall. I'll catch up. Just need to take this call."
I hummed in reply, gathered my things, and stepped out.
On the staircase, I paused on the last step, rubbing my neck as I tried to shake the heaviness clinging to me. A hand appeared in front of me, offering a candy. I blinked, meeting a pair of striking blue eyes.
"Well, if it isn't Selene Vasquez," I muttered, clicking my tongue as I stood beside her.
The queen of Veraux Holdings herself. I shook my head and accepted the candy, unwrapping it. "Thanks."
Her lips twitched, eyes rolling with casual disdain. "Aurora DeLacroix. Didn't expect to see you back on Sloane's arm. After all, it's been ages since your little university breakup scandal." She laughed softly.
"Right," I scoffed. "Hardly remember we even went to the same university."
Selene hummed, eyes scanning the crowd below. "Why didn't you tell me you were going bankrupt? I could've helped."
A dry laugh escaped me. "Appreciate the thought, Ms. Vasquez, but I was too stressed to think straight. Besides, who would want to help a sinking ship?"
Her brow arched as she looked me over. "Hmm. You've lost weight. The bankruptcy must've hit harder than I thought." She patted my shoulder, then smiled faintly. "Anyway, congrats on the wedding."
She extended her hand. I took it, shaking firmly—just as Sloane's voice called from the stairs.
"Ro."
I blinked, looking toward Sloane. My hand was still tangled with Selene's. Sloane's brows arched, her eyes sharp with something that looked very close to jealousy. I quickly withdrew, clearing my throat.
Selene laughed softly as Sloane stepped up beside me. "Sloane Duvall," she greeted, giving her a subtle nod. "Welcome back to Monaco... though I suppose my welcome is already years overdue, isn't it?" She lifted her wine glass with a smirk, taking a slow, deliberate sip.
"Selene Vasquez. Fancy seeing you here..." Sloane returned coolly, eyes sweeping the crowd. "Still alone?"
Selene straightened, lips curving into a smirk. "Hardly." She gestured toward the head chef working the gala. "See that chef you hired for the gala? She's mine."
With that, she excused herself, leaving tension thick between us.
Sloane crossed her arms, her glare sliding to me. "I step away for five minutes, and you're already entertaining others?"
My lips parted, disbelief flooding me. "What...?" I scoffed, heat rushing to my cheeks. "No! I wasn't even—"
"Should I remind you," she cut in sharply, "that I can pull my investments at any time?"
I froze, speechless. Was she... jealous?
"Wait," I said slowly, a laugh slipping past my lips. "Are you jealous, Sol?"
"Hah!" She flipped her hair with a scoff. "You wish, Aurora."