Chapter 6
I was left speechless, the tension between us thick in the air. I exhaled, straightening my posture before moving toward the panel. The shelves slid apart with a soft hum, revealing the hidden dressmaking room.
Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes met Sloane's. I gave her a subtle nod. "Want to see the test fabrics? I've got some samples displayed inside." My tone was calm, casual—anything to steer us away from another fight. The last thing I needed was to lose another investor.
Sloane didn't respond, but she walked toward me anyway. I gestured to the room, where a mannequin stood at the center, draped in layered test fabrics. She lingered near me as we stepped inside.
"Feel free to look at the dresses," I said, leaning back against a desk, arms crossed. I watched her circle the displays, my eyes tracing her every movement.
When she paused in front of the centerpiece, I moved to stand behind her. "Do you like it?"
She jolted slightly, scoffing. "No." She started to turn away.
"I made it for you."
Her steps halted. She turned back, one brow arched. I tugged on my cardigan sleeves and stepped closer to the gown. It wasn't finished—just a test fabric born from an old sketch—but I could picture her in it, as clearly as the day I first drew it. My fingers brushed over the fabric, my gaze steady.
"Excuse me?" she asked, incredulous. "Why would you make something like that for me? It's not like you ever loved me—"
"I sketched it while we were still together," I cut in softly. "I finished the test fabric the month we broke up—no, the month I broke up with you." My eyes lowered back to the gown, avoiding hers.
I imagined her wearing it on our wedding day—the wedding that never came. But those dreams were buried because I was a coward, too weak to fight for her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sloane step closer to the mannequin.
I moved aside, letting her take it in fully.
"I know it sounds ridiculous," I murmured, "but I imagined you walking down the aisle in this.
I could never release it as part of my collection.
So... if you want it, Sol, I'd want you to wear it. "
Silence wrapped around us. She didn't speak, just stared at the gown. My cheeks warmed. Clearing my throat, I straightened, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well... if it's not to your liking—"
"Can you make it?"
I blinked, staring at her back. "Pardon?"
She turned to face me. "The gown. Can you finish it before the wedding?"
My lips parted, breath catching. "I... are you—"
"If you can make it, then fine. I'll wear it." She shrugged, as if it meant nothing.
The wedding was next month. I glanced at the fabric, then at her. "I can," I said quickly, heat rushing to my face. "I just need your measurements." I darted to the desk, gathering a notebook, pen, and measuring tape.
With the pen tucked behind my ear, I stood before her. "Mind if I take your stats?"
She gave a small shake of her head. I nodded, stepping closer. The tape stretched around her bust, then her waist. I scribbled notes quickly, my hands steady though my chest tightened. She avoided my eyes, staring anywhere but me.
"There," I said at last, rolling the tape back up. I placed everything neatly on the desk. "I'll get the fabric tomorrow and start working on it right away. Do you want any custom touches? Additional details?"
She pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. "That'll be fine." Her gaze drifted back to the gown, then slid to me. "Now that the dress is settled..." She walked closer, stopping right in front of me. "You'll need your suit. Unless you've already sketched some ideas."
I hummed, glancing at my hands. "I've got a few designs."
She gestured toward the gown. "Something that complements this. If you have one, then make it. It's not just my wedding—it's yours too."
Her words made me pause. A bitter chuckle escaped me as I exhaled heavily. "Funny, isn't it? We're planning a wedding, but there's no love in this. We don't even act like a couple—yet here we are, playing the part."
She clicked her tongue, tilting her head.
"Oh, I know. It must be tragic for you—tangled up with your ex after twelve years.
But you don't have a choice. We signed a no-divorce clause.
" Her hand pressed against my shoulder, firm.
"And you've always been great at pretending.
I'm sure you'll pull off the role of perfect wife just fine.
" She smirked. "You fooled me once into believing what we had was special.
So how hard could it be to pretend we're happy in each other's arms? Easy."
"Pretend we're happy," I echoed, scoffing. My arms slid around her waist before I could stop myself. "Then tell me, Sol—does that pretending extend to being intimate with you?"
She shoved me back, but I only laughed, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Easy, Sol. I'm just asking—does our pretend marriage come with pretend intimacy? Or would you prefer I test my luck with someone else? Somehow, I don't think you'd like that."
She lifted her hand, ready to slap me, but I caught her wrist midair and yanked her closer. Her breath brushed my lips, sharp and furious. "You're shameless, Aurora," she spat through clenched teeth. "Proving again that what we had was nothing but a game to you."
A knot formed in my throat. My grip loosened.
It was never a game. I bit my lip, forcing a hollow laugh to cover the ache clawing at my chest. Twelve years—twelve years of holding myself back, of staying away because I thought hurting her was the only way to protect her. Twelve fucking years.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. It was all I had left, though I knew it meant nothing. I had destroyed the best thing I'd ever had. The best person.
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My fingers hovered over the mouse as I double-clicked, opening a file of luxury houses under the company. I leaned back, biting my thumbnail while scanning each 3D design. I was about to click on another model when a knock at the door drew my attention.
I glanced up to see Celeste entering my office. I straightened as she stood before my desk.
"Ms. Aurora," she said, subtly nodding while placing a portfolio on my desk and sliding it toward me. "Here's the report from the finance department."
"Thank you, Celeste." I opened the portfolio, flipping through the pages. All the evidence had been submitted to the company's lawyer, but my fingers paused on a specific sheet. My brow furrowed as I glanced back and forth between pages.
"Celeste," I said, tilting my head toward her. "Has the finance department double-checked these figures before sending them to you?"
She hummed. "They've double-checked everything, Ms. Aurora. The head of finance also noted that the embezzlement began two years ago, but it fluctuates around a hundred thousand—more or less."
My eyes locked on the page detailing the total embezzled amount over six months. "How did it escalate this far?" I muttered under my breath.
I closed the portfolio with a sharp thud. "Schedule a meeting with the company lawyer for Friday at ten in the morning. I want a full progress report on the investigation and the embezzled funds."
Holding the portfolio, I bent slightly, unlocking my vault with the password I'd set and placing the documents inside before locking it again. I looked at Celeste, who was typing on her tablet.
"Also, Ms. Aurora..." she hesitated, glancing up at me. "Ms. Duvall called. She wants to remind you about the site visit for the potential wedding venue."
I nodded, offering her a faint smile. "Thanks for the reminder, Celeste. I'll talk to her."
Celeste smiled, bowed, and excused herself. Once the door closed, I leaned back in my chair, picking up my phone while my eyes stayed on the computer screen. I unlocked my phone and dialed Sloane's number.
With the phone pressed to my ear, my other hand hovered over the mouse, checking details on the house I was considering. After a few rings, her voice came through.
"Hey, Ro."
I offered a small smile to myself. "Hey. Thanks for taking my call—I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
She hummed on the other end. "Not at all," Sloane said evenly. "Why are you calling? Do you need something?"
"Well," I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing at the screen.
"I was wondering if you're free this afternoon.
.. I mean, if you're not busy, I'd like to take you to see a luxury house I'm considering for our future home.
But... if we're not actually going to live together, that's fine too. " I laughed nervously.
There was a pause on the line. "Sol? You there?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm still here," Sloane's voice chuckled softly. "I'm free this afternoon. I can make time to see that luxury house you mentioned. Just pick me up after lunch," she added.
"Actually..." I bit my lower lip, letting out a sigh. "Do you have a meeting around lunch?" I glanced at my desk clock—it was already quarter to twelve..
"No, I don't. I was planning to have lunch early though. Why?"
"Can we have lunch together? I can pick you up now if you'd like."
Another pause. Then I heard her chuckle. "Suit yourself. Call me when you're here," she said after a moment.
A smile spread across my face. I was about to respond when the call ended. I blinked at the screen, and a soft chime followed—a notification.
It was a message from Sloane: Don't be late, I hate waiting.
I pushed myself up, hastily gathering my things and shutting down my computer. The smile on my lips wouldn't fade. I felt like a teenager about to go on a first date with her long-time crush.