After that awkward breakfast with Ss, Ivy made her way upstairs to prepare for


    the photoshoot. She was barely up when Monica called


    her.


    "Yes?" Ivy turned toward Monica''s voice.


    "Please, I need a favor from you," Monica said, sounding out of breath.


    Ivy''s stomach churned. "What is it?"


    "I need your ount details. Someone wants to send me something, and I don''t have "


    Ivy didn''t let her finish. "It''s okay, you can have it." She rattled off the ount number.


    "You''re such a darling, Ivy," Monica beamed with a warm smile. "I''ming up now to get you ready for your outing."


    "Okay." Ivy smiled and resumed climbing the stairs.


    Once in her room, Ivy sat on the bed, her mind racing. Why had Ss asked her those personal questions about her and Mason? It wasn''t that she had a problem talking about it; she''d actually thought it was a perfect opportunity to learn more about him. But when he brought up her father, it had unsettled her.


    She couldn''t make sense of her father''s reactions. First, he''d been upset about her giving Mason her inheritance, then suddenly his anger shifted to her marriage to Ss. She could bet he had said something awful to Ss, but as sweet as Ss was, he wouldn''t say it.


    Her phone buzzed, snapping her from her thoughts. It was a credit alert. She opened the message and her eyes widened. 200 million dors. How the hell had Monica arranged for someone to send her that?


    Then she panicked hoping Monica hadn''t used her ount for something illegal.


    Just then, Monica knocked and entered. "Are you ready to get dressed? Mr. Stone is waiting."


    "Your money came through," Ivy said, her eyes studying Monica''s reaction.


    Monica giggled as she stepped closer. "Actually, it''s yours. Mr. Stone asked me to get your details. I didn''t know how to tell you. I''m sorry."


    Ivy''s eyes widened again. "What? Mine?"


    "Yes," Monica said. "What happened?"


    "It''s.... it''s too much," Ivy stammered. "I wasn''t expecting anything."


    Monicaughed softly. "You''re a billionaire''s wife. That''s how you get spoiled. I bet it''s up to a hundred million."


    "Way more than that!" Ivy eximed.


    "Lucky you then," Monica chuckled. "Let''s go get ready. We don''t want to keep your husband waiting."


    Ivy blushed as she stood up from the bed. She walked to the closet, allowing Monica to pick out her clothes.


    "This should do," Monica said,ying out a beige Prada jumpsuit. She then picked small diamond earrings, its ne, ck heels, and a Valentino bag.


    Soon, Monica had Ivy''s hair fixed in a sleek updo, and in no time, she was ready.


    Ivy clutched her bag tightly as she made her way outside. A ck car was waiting with its door already opened. She climbed in, Ss was already there waiting patiently by the looks of it.


    He lifted his head from his phone when she entered. "Ready?"


    "Yes," she nodded.


    "Start the car, Victor," he said to his driver.


    Ivy kept her distance, trying not to be too close to him.


    0


    "Did you get the transaction?" he asked, his hazel eyes lighting up with a smile.


    Ivy swallowed and averted her gaze. "Yes, but it was unnecessary." "Unnecessary?" She heard the surprise in his tone. "I just wanted to give you


    some-


    "Yes," she cut him off. “Just after I told you about my inheritance?"


    He sighed. "It was a gift. You''re always so difficult with gifts."


    “I''m not,” she said firmly. “I like gifts. I just don''t like... when it''s out of pity."


    Ss ced his hand on her thigh, causing her to tremble slightly as she looked at him. "Nothing I ever do for you is out of pity. I enjoy giving you things."


    "Why?" she asked in a small voice, daring not to move from his touch. "Because," he said, stroking her thigh, "I like... gifting you."


    His hand on her thigh blocked all other thoughts in her head. She held her breath, aware of the heat on her cheeks and between her legs.


    Thankfully, he removed his hand, and she let out a strained breath, pressing her legs together to suppress the heat.


    "Here," Ss said, dropping a small box on herp. "Open it," he encouraged.


    Ivy bit her lip as she opened the box. Inside was a diamond-studded wristwatch.


    "It''s a Cartier," he said proudly.


    She shook her head. "I can''t take this."


    "Oh,e on," heughed, taking the watch and wearing it for her. "Beautiful."


    Ivy smiled as she admired the watch. "It is. Thank you."


    It was when she looked into his eyes that she realized he wasn''t talking about the watch. Her blush deepened, and she quickly looked


    away.


    "You''re wee," he murmured. "I want you to wear it for the shoot. And this too." He pulled out another box.


    Ivy''s breath caught at the gesture. This was too much for her. "Oh, Ss..."


    “Shh, just take it. It suits you," he said gently, pushing the box toward her.


    "Thank you, Ss" she said softly, gratitude swelling in her heart.


    He chuckled, looking pleased with her reaction. "You''re wee."


    Ivy looked away, her heart pounding from the gift. She was grateful, even though she knew it was too much.


    "Rosie''s not in charge of your styling this time," he said, breaking her thoughts. "I figured you two need your space."


    She nodded, gratefully by his thoughtfulness. "So, who is it?"


    "Aaliyah Salvatore. Another wonderful stylist in the country," he said, winking at her. "You''ll like her."


    Ivy adjusted her hair behind her ear and avoided his eyes, "Okay."


    For an instant, she thought he had looked away, but when she raised her head, she found him staring at her.


    "My dear Ivy..." he began softly, but was interrupted by Victor.


    "We''re here, boss," Victor said.


    Ss''s eyes lingered on her before he cleared his throat. "Ready?"


    Ivy bit her lip, her cheeks burning. "Yes," she nodded.


    He helped her out of the car, holding her hands. They walked into the building. A receptionist led them to


    the white room where so


    members were stationed,


    A youngdy walked up to them. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs Stone," she greeted. "Good morning," Ivy replied.


    "Ms. Salvatore is on her way," she said to Ivy. "We''d like for you to begin your hair and makeup before she gets here.


    "Alright."


    "If you''ll follow me, please," thedy said, and Ivy waved at Ss as she followed


    her.


    She led Ivy to the previous room


    where she had had her makeup and


    hair done. When thedy pushed the


    door open, Ivy was surprised to see Sally and Xia.


    "Mrs. Stone!" Sally eximed, running to hug her, "I thought we''d never see you


    again."


    "Hey, Sally," Ivy returned the hug,


    "You have fifty minutes," thedy said before leaving.


    "Please tell me it''s not the other Mrs. Stone styling you today?" Sally said, leading


    Ivy to the seat.


    "Oh, it''s not," Ivy said with relief. "It''s Aaliyah Salvatore."


    "Damn!" Xia eximed.


    Ivy turned to them. "What?"


    "Seems you''re unlucky with your


    stylists," Sally said, shaking her head. "Aaliyah Salvatore dated your husband before, and apparently, she still has a thing for him. I can''t imagine being styled by my husband''s ex."