Her Valentian accent gave her words a melodic tone that clashed with the sharp edge hidden beneath them. Beside me, Christian was like a statue-rigid, almost unrecognizable compared to the man who had kissed me only minutes earlier.
“And how did you two meet?” Francesca asked, her dark eyes scanning every inch of my face. “Christian rarely attends events that aren’t business-related. Or has that changed?”
“Mutual friends,” I answered automatically, repeating the story we’d agreed upon. “We saw each other a few times before something… happened.”
“Fascinating.” She smiled, though it never reached her eyes. “And you sell wedding dresses, don’t you? An adorable coincidence, given the circumstances.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Christian finally spoke, his voice so cold I barely recognized it. “I believe in fate.”
Francesca let out a light laugh, almost musical.
“Fate?” She tilted her head, watching him with curiosity. “You? The man who planned every single minute of his life? How interesting.”
“People change,” he replied curtly.
“Apparently.” She took a sip from the glass she held. “First Westcliff, now a whirlwind engagement. Your grandfather must be thrilled. Finally getting what he wanted.”
The tension between them was almost tangible, heavy with history and unresolved wounds. And there I was, caught in the middle, trying to piece together years of their relationship from stolen glances and carefully chosen words.
“Joseph has always been perceptive about what truly matters,” Christian answered, his arm sliding around my waist in a protective gesture that didn’t feel entirely staged.
“What truly matters…” Francesca echoed thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, I heard you’re trying to expand into the Ascian market. Interesting, considering Montgomery just closed an exclusive deal with the largest distributors in Dawn City.”
Christian’s fingers pressed lightly against my waist, and I realized this wasn’t just an awkward run-in with an ex -it was a business confrontation too.
“There are other markets,” he replied with studied calm.
“Certainly. Although I wonder…” Her eyes shifted to me. “Does Zoey know about your other… projects? The ones you keep so well hidden?”
Something stirred uneasily inside me. Projects? What else was Christian hiding?
“Francesca.” His voice now carried a warning edge. “This isn’t the time,”
“It never is, is it?” She smiled, shrugging delicately. “I’m just curious how much your fiancée really knows about you. About us.”
“There is no us,” Christian shot back, tense.
“Perhaps not now.” Francesca stepped closer, lowering her voice. “But the past has a way of slipping into the present, don’t you think?”
Before Christian could reply, a familiar voice cut into the tight circle of tension.
“There you are!” Elise approached, her eyes quickly assessing the situation. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“We were just introducing ourselves,” Francesca answered, an elegant smile on her lips. “And you must be…?”
“Elise Banks, Elite PR.” She extended her hand with that polished confidence I’d always envied. “We’re handling the public relations for the event.”
“Francesca Montgomery, Montgomery Wineries.”
I caught the sparkle of recognition in Elise’s eyes. Of course she knew Montgomery; she’d probably researched every one of Kensington’s competitors before taking the job.
“I believe we’ll have much to discuss, Miss Montgomery,” Elise said, her professional smile carefully concealing any real intentions. “Perhaps we could exchange some ideas about the industry?”
“I’d love that,” Francesca replied, her gaze sliding back to us one last time. “Christian, Zoey, it was a pleasure. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again… very soon.”
As the two of them walked away, I felt Christian visibly relax beside me. Without hesitation, he guided me toward a side exit that led to a small balcony. The cool night air was a relief after the suffocating tension of the last few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured once we were alone.
“For your ex-girlfriend who stole your company secrets showing up at your event?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered slightly. “Or for her clearly plotting something against you?”
Christian ran a hand down his face, looking suddenly weary.
“For dragging you into all of this. What was supposed to be a simple, peaceful event turned into…” He gestured vaguely. “This.”
“Well, at least your grandfather liked me,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiled, and for a moment, he looked like the Christian I’d met during the storm-vulnerable and real.
“He more than liked you. He completely approved of you. Which, trust me, is rare.”
“He seems like a good man. Demanding, but good.”
Christian nodded, his gaze fixed on the vineyards glowing beneath us.
“He’s the only real family I have.”
We fell into silence for a moment, the faint sound of music and chatter from the event drifting in from behind us.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to understand.
“What did Francesca mean by your ‘other projects’?” I finally asked.
Christian let out a sigh.
“Business. Side investments. Nothing worth mentioning.”
But there was something in his tone that told me it was more than that. Another secret, another layer of Christian Kensington I didn’t yet know.
“And her?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice quieter, almost hesitant. “Do you still feel anything for her?”
Christian turned to me, the question about Francesca still hanging in the air between us. Then, surprisingly, he smiled that crooked smile that seemed reserved for the moments when he decided to change the rules of the game.
“And you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you still care about Alex?”
The question caught me completely off guard. For a moment, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath my feet.
It was a fair question, but somehow it felt more intimate, more invasive than mine about Francesca.
“You know I do,” I admitted, turning my gaze toward the dark vineyards. “It’s not something you get over overnight.”
Christian leaned in slightly on the balcony, close enough that our arms nearly touched.
“I have to ask,” his voice was unexpectedly gentle. “Do you really care about him, or do you care about the idea of winning him back? About showing Elise that you won and she lost?”
The question was so precise it almost hurt physically. No one had ever put into words what, deep down, I had already asked myself. Did I still love Alex, the man who betrayed and humiliated me? Or did I love the idea of victory, of revenge, of proving I wasn’t so easily replaced?
I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs. I decided to be honest-with Christian and with myself.
“Both, I guess,” I whispered. “Part of me still remembers the man I fell in love with. The other part just… doesn’t want to feel like I lost everything, like I was so easily replaced.”,
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.