<h4>Chapter 123: Dyed ns</h4>


    A woman with flowing brte hair strode into Las Flores, the upscale Spanish fine-dining restaurant owned by Ricardo Rossi. Dressed in nothing more than fitted jeans, sleek rubber shoes, and a simple shirt, she should have looked out of ce among the chandeliers and crisp white tablecloths.


    But despite her casual attire, she carried herself with such effortless elegance and quiet authority that not a single staff member dared question her presence—or the fact that she tantly ignored the restaurant’s strict dress code.


    Without hesitation, she was escorted to one of the private dining rooms, the very one Ric had reserved the night before. As she settled in, she ordered one of the most expensive bottles of non-alcoholic wine, an indulgence despite the fact that the meal had already been pre-selected for her.


    Minutes passed in silence, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over herposed features. Just as she began to swirl the deep red liquid in her ss, the door creaked open, drawing her gaze.


    She smirked, lifting the bottle ever so slightly.


    "Finally, you’re here," she mused, her voice smooth but edged with amusement. "I was starting to think I’d finish this bottle before evenying eyes on you."


    Ric narrowed his eyes, scanning the woman from head to toe, then back up again. His brows furrowed in confusion. ’Who the hell is she?’ he thought.


    Before he could say a word, the woman let out an exasperated sigh and pulled off her hat and oversized sunsses, revealing a familiar face. She rolled her eyes at his dumbfounded expression.


    Ric’s jaw dropped. He instinctively pped both hands over his mouth, muffling his gasp of shock. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her in disbelief before quickly shutting the door behind him.


    "Oh my God. I didn’t recognize you at all," he blurted out. "Wait... did you color your hair just for this meeting?" he eximed with incredulity as if the idea alone was too ridiculous toprehend.


    The woman scoffed, shaking her head. "It’s a wig, goddamnit. I can’t afford to be seen with you, you know that!" she snapped, sinking back into her chair with a frustrated sigh. Without missing a beat, she poured the deep red wine into a ss and slid it toward him.


    Ric smirked, taking the offered ss but not drinking just yet. "I know, Annie, but this? This is a bit much," he said, gesturing to her entire disguise.


    "If someone spotted you in one of my restaurants, they wouldn’t assume you were here to see me. They’d just think you were grabbing a bite to eat. There was no need to go full spy movie on me."


    Annie shot him a pointed re, but Ric only chuckled, finally taking a sip of the wine before settling into the chair across from her. The amusement faded from his face as he leaned forward, his voice dropping into something more serious.


    "Alright," he said, swirling the wine in his ss. "Let’s get straight to business."


    Ric leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his ss with a smirk. "So, why did the illustrious socialite media princess summon me today?" he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    Annie’s patience was already running thin. She leaned forward, eyes sharp with urgency. "Did you show Cammy the pictures I gave you?"


    Ric took his time, enjoying the way she fumed. "Yes, I did, Your Highness," he quipped, shing her a mocking grin.


    Annie rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. "All of it?" she pressed.


    Ric let out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, Your Highness, everyst one."


    "Stop calling me that!" she snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed her ss and downed the rest of her wine in a single gulp.


    Ric simply chuckled. "Then stop acting like some entitled royalty," he shot back, setting his ss down with a soft clink. "But tell me, did you really call me out here just to confirm that? Or do you need my services again?" His tone dipped suggestively, his gaze flickering with something yful, almost predatory.


    Annie scoffed, brushing off his innuendo. "Then why was Duncan so goddamn confident that Cammy would take him back after our engagement was made public? Is she really that in love with him, or is she just that stupid?"


    Ric’s expression darkened in an instant. The yful smirk vanished. His grip on the ss tightened.


    "Watch your mouth, Annie," he warned, his voice low and deadly. "You’re talking about the woman I like, and I don’t appreciate the way you speak about her."


    Annie let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically. "If you’re so into her, then maybe you should actually do something instead of sitting around while Greg leaves his mark all over your so-called woman."


    Ric’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "I am working on it. Unlike you, I actually have patience," he countered smoothly.


    Before Annie could down another ss of wine, Ric swiftly reached across the table and snatched it from her grip. "Hey, that’s enough," he ordered, his voice firm.


    Annie scowled. "What? It’s non-alcoholic. Don’t ruin my damn moment."


    Ric shook his head, setting the ss far from her reach. "Even if there’s no alcohol, it’s still not great for pregnant women. I ordered something actually healthy for you. You should drink that instead, it even tastes better than this," he added, his voice softer now.


    Annie burst intoughter, but it wasn’t warm—it was mocking. "Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re getting attached to this baby. Are you actually going soft on me, Ric?"


    His expression didn’t waver. He simply met her gaze, unflinching. "I’m not soft. I’m just making sure you don’t screw up the one decent decision you’ve made," he said.


    "You chose to have this baby. Whether it was for selfish reasons or not, the least you can do is make sure it’s healthy. Because one day, when you’re old and have no one left, that child is going to be the only person who might still give a damn about you."


    With that, he grabbed the bottle of wine and moved it far out of Annie’s reach, daring her to argue.


    A sharp knock on the door signaled the arrival of their food. Annie and Ric both fell silent as the servers entered, gracefully cing each dish before them. They waited, watching in quiet anticipation until thest server exited and the door closed behind them.


    Without a word, Ric stood up and twisted the lock, ensuring they wouldn’t be interrupted. He then returned to his seat, picking up his fork and eyeing Annie across the table.


    "So, Annie," he began, he sounded intrigued, "what exactly is your n?"


    Annie smirked, swirling the juice in her ss before taking a sip. "My n?" she echoed. "It hasn’t changed. Just... dyed."


    Ric arched a skeptical brow, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. "Really? And what makes you so sure it’s still going to happen?" He sounded doubtful, especially after hisst conversation with Cammy, where Duncan had made it painfully clear he was hell-bent on winning her back.


    Annie leaned forward, lowering her voice just enough to add a conspiratorial edge. "Duncan came to our housest night," she revealed.


    "He looked my father straight in the eye and promised to marry me. So, expect that to happen very soon after their divorce. Should I send you an invitation this time?" she teased, tilting her head yfully.


    Ric scoffed, shaking his head in disgust. "No, thanks. Don’t bother. I wouldn’t attend even if you paid me," he said coldly.


    "But don’t worry, I’ll make sure your reception has nothing but the finest food and the best of my staff. That’s the extent of my generosity. I don’t want to be seen with you in public more than absolutely necessary." His voice took on a bitter edge.


    "Let’s not forget, Annie, I’m only helping you because of what you forced me into. I didn’t exactly have a choice."


    Annie chuckled, amused by his frustration. "Wow, are you actually saying, to my face, that I ckmailed you?"


    Ric smirked, swirling his wine. "Something like that. But... as long as you keep your end of the bargain, I’ll keep mine."


    "Of course," Annie purred, raising her ss of juice with a devilish glint in her eyes. "As long as I get Duncan, nothing bad will happen to your beloved Cammy."


    She lifted her ss higher, a wicked smile ying on her lips. "Let’s toast to our future spouses, Ric. May we all live... happily ever after."


    Ric hesitated for a moment, watching Annie with an unreadable expression. Then, with a sigh, he lifted his own ss, though his grip on the stem was tense.


    "To our future spouses," he muttered, clinking his ss against hers.


    Annie smirked, taking a slow sip before setting her drink down. "You don’t have to sound so miserable, Ric. We’re both getting what we want."


    Ric exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "Are we?"


    Annie’s smirk deepened. "Of course. You’ll have Cammy, and I’ll have Duncan. Everything’s falling perfectly into ce."


    Ric said nothing, only swirling his drink, watching as the liquid swayed inside the ss.


    ’Perfectly into ce, huh? Then why did it feel like everything was teetering on the edge of disaster?’