Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
LIVIANNA/LILY
Eight Months Before Now
Lipstick Lies & Champagne Armor
Sometimes survival looks like red lips and pretending nothing hurts.
“Livianna Grace, if you don’t get down here this instant, you’re going to be late for the most important meeting of your career.” Mom’s voice carries up the staircase like a melody wrapped in urgency, slicing through the heaviness of my childhood bedroom.
I press my palms against the cream vanity where I used to sit for hours as a kid, staring at my reflection and practicing lines for roles that never quite fit. I used to wonder if I’d ever be enough for anyone, including myself.
My phone buzzes against the delicate surface. There’s another notification lighting up the screen like a beacon of my success and my terror rolled into one devastating package.
Lehlani Rose Designs has exploded beyond anything I ever imagined possible. And sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in the very dream I fought so hard to make real.
Jax and I are both busy. It makes it hard to make time for one another, but when we do, fireworks go off all night.
“I’m coming, Mom.” The words tear past my throat as I grab my leather portfolio and the sexy blazer draped over the antique chair that’s been in here since I was twelve years old.
The room still feels like a shrine to the childhood I never really had, all soft pinks and carefully curated innocence.
It’s the kind of space designed for a little girl who was supposed to be sweet, manageable, and grateful for the life her parents built around the ghost of the daughter who never got to breathe.
Even now, at twenty-two, staying here feels like wearing clothes that belong to someone else.
My reflection catches in the full-length mirror as I stride toward the door. For a split second I see her, Lehlani Rose, the sister whose name I carry like both a blessing and a wound.
We would’ve had the same blue eyes, the same stubborn chin, the same way of tilting our heads when we’re thinking too hard about something that’s already been decided.
“Darling, Marcus Chen doesn’t wait for anyone, not even rising fashion moguls.” Dad’s voice joins Mom’s from downstairs, carrying a note of pride that still surprises me after all these months of success.
I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of Mom’s signature lavender coffee blend drifting up from the kitchen. It’s the smell that's followed me through every major moment of my life: auditions, my breakup, panic attacks, and now this.
The meeting that could turn Lehlani Rose Designs from a rapidly growing brand into something that could change everything.
I reach my fingers up to find the diamond earrings Jax gave me for my birthday. They’re the ones I’ve worn to every important event since he slipped them into my hands.
He doesn’t know I’m terrified of this meeting, doesn’t know that part of me wants to run back to Paris, where success felt manageable and love felt like a secret I could keep safe.
“Livianna, darling, you’re going to be brilliant today.” Mom appears in my doorway, her expression soft with the maternal pride she’s been trying to perfect since I told her about rebranding to honor Lehlani Rose.
She’s wearing her favorite black silk blouse and that careful smile she puts on when she’s trying not to let her own anxiety bleed through.
It’s the same one she’s had for every premiere, every award show, and every moment when my success felt too big for either of us to understand.
“What if I’m not ready for this, Mom?” The question slips out raw and honest in a way that would have sent me spiraling into self-harm just two years ago.
Her grin falters for just a moment, revealing the woman underneath the performance. The mother who’s watched her surviving daughter transform pain into purpose and still isn’t sure if she’s proud or traumatized.
“Ready or not, darling, this is your moment. Just as you said in Paris, Lehlani Rose deserves to be seen by the world.”
The way she says my sister’s name, like it’s a blessing and an apology blended together, makes my chest tighten with emotions I still don’t have names for. We’ve come so far from that explosive dinner in Paris.
We’ve come so far from the years of dancing around a grief too big for any of us to carry alone, but there are still moments when I catch her looking at me like she’s seeing a ghost. I still feel her loss, and I hate that I’ve hurt her in a way she’ll never be able to get over.
Dad joins Mom in the doorway, his presence filling the space with the confidence that comes from decades of making deals and winning wars in boardrooms most people never see.
He places his arm around her. “Marcus Chen’s company could put you in production facilities across the world, Livianna. This isn’t just about fashion anymore. This is about building an empire worthy of her memory.”
“I know what this meeting means, Dad.” I slip the blazer over my shoulders, the satin lining cool against skin that feels too hot, too aware, and too much like it’s about to combust from the pressure of everyone’s expectations.
He sighs. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to you calling me Dad. It’s always been Daddy, but I guess you’ve grown up.”
“I have. But I have a question. What happens…” I swallow hard. “What if Lehlani Rose Designs gets too big? What if I lose control of what it means and what it represents?”
“Then you fight to keep it pure.” His stare carries the weight of every lesson he’s ever taught me about power and responsibility, and about carrying the family name and the legacy that comes with it. “But you don’t run from success because you’re scared of what it might cost you.”
My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text from Jax that makes my stomach flip with anticipation and terror in equal measure.
My King: You’re going to change the world today, mon trésor. I can’t wait to celebrate with you soon.
The promise in his words, the certainty that this meeting will go well, and that I deserve the success that’s knocking down my door should comfort me.
Instead, it makes me want to crawl back under the duvet on my bed and pretend I’m still the broken girl who thought she deserved nothing but the pressure of her own guilt.
“We should go, shouldn’t we?” I glance between my parents.
Two people who’ve watched me transform from their greatest heartbreak into something they can finally be proud of, even if they still don’t quite know what to do with the woman I’ve become.
Mom nods, her eyes bright with unshed tears that could be pride or the complicated mixture that seems to define our relationship now. “The car’s waiting, and your future is about to begin.”
As we step down the staircase together, past the family photos that finally include pictures of my design work alongside my old headshots, and past the fresh flowers Mom arranges every Friday like hope made tangible, I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror one more time.
This time, I don’t see Lehlani Rose staring back at me. I see myself, Livianna Grace. She’s the woman who took her sister’s memory and turned it into something beautiful, powerful, and worth celebrating.
I’m the woman who learned to love the broken parts of herself enough to let someone else hold them without cutting his hands on the edges. The woman who’s about to march into a meeting that could change everything, carrying her sister’s name like a crown instead of chains.
I take a breath and try to focus on something other than this life-changing moment. “Dad, can we look for houses for me this weekend? I want to be in something soon.”
“Of course we can, but you need to be single-minded until this deal is made.” He gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Knock ’em dead.”
“Thanks, I’ll do my best.” I force a tight smile and head to the most important meeting of my career.
Please, God, let this go off without a hitch.
The designer kitchen sparkles under new crystal chandeliers. My portfolio is still clutched in sweaty palms, and my heart is hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
Mom and Dad stand at the marble island, wearing formal evening wear that screams money and expectation. She’s in midnight blue, which makes her look like Hollywood royalty. My dad’s in a perfectly tailored tuxedo that could fund a small country.
“There she is, our little mogul.” Dad’s smile is warm but expectant as he adjusts his cufflinks. “How did the meeting with Marcus Chen go?”
“It went well, I think.” I set my belongings on the counter, trying to read their expressions for clues about why they’re dressed like they’re attending a state dinner. “He seemed impressed with the collection, but I won’t know anything definitive for a while.”
My mom straightens out her dress. “Why will it take a while?”
“Due diligence and making sure all my legal documents and claims stand up to what I reported to him.” My phone buzzes in my pocket for what feels like the hundredth time today. I peek at it.
Jax’s pet name lights up the screen like a beacon of frustration. We’ve been playing phone tag since this morning. We keep missing each other’s calls by minutes, our schedules conflicting like planets refusing to align.
“I’m sure everything will turn out wonderfully, darling.” Mom glides over to kiss my cheek. Her perfume swirls around me. “Now hurry upstairs and change into that gorgeous purple dress we picked out last week. We have a wedding to attend.”
“A wedding?” I blink at her, confusion cutting through my post-meeting exhaustion. “Whose? I don’t have anything on my calendar.”
“Andrew Carter is getting married tonight.” Dad straightens his bow tie. “He’s one of Jaxon’s top advisors, and we RSVP’d weeks ago. The three of us are expected to attend.”
My stomach drops like a stone thrown into dark water. “I can’t go to that. I’m drained from the meeting, and I need to process everything that happened.”