:
Xylia just wanted tough coldly.
<b>74 </b>
55 vouchers
After years of secret marriage, even now at the brink of divorce, outsiders still didn’t know she was the one married to Connor Ford.
Let alone anyone praising them as a match.
But at least she was finally getting divorced.
Masking the flicker in her eyes, she steadied her breath and stepped out of the dressing room.
Joshua Garcia waited on the sofa, now in a tailored suit, tinum blond hair swept back.
An ordinary cut looked impossibly refined on him.
Her chest tightened before she could stop it.
She’d seen his eyes sharp with rage, seen him at his lowest…
But never like this.
Joshua slouched with casual grace, one leg bent, a cigarette burning low between his fingers.
Smoke veiled his features, etching distance and ice into his expression.
When she paused in the doorway, he arched an eyebrow, stubbed out the cigarette, and let a faint smile thaw the frost in his gaze.
“Found your gown?” His voice softened.
That earlier edge in his eyes might’ve been her imagination.
Xylia’s dress dipped low, baring the pale lines of her corbones as she moved toward him.
Under his stare, she suddenly felt uneasy.
“Does it… not look right?” she murmured, avoiding his eyes.
She’d never worn anything like this.
After years of motherhood, this was her first time putting herself first.
Joshua’s gaze lingered on the exposed curve of her lower back. Something unreadable shed in his eyes before he swallowedl.
“It’s perfect.”
…
:
He looked down, smothering the heat rising in his chest.
Too perfect.
Perfect enough to make him want to hide her away where no one else could <i>see</i>.
The gown clung to her as if forged for her alone.
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55 vouchers
Her cool elegance didn’t sh with the dress’s bold color–it sharpened it. Like a rose blooming in the desert, delicate yet unbreakable.
Silence thickened the air between them.
The silence stretched between them until Xylia finally spoke.
“Time for the g? Should we head over?”
This Jupiton g united top enterprises for investment deals.
As Joshua listed organizers during the drive, Xylia frowned.
These were Jupiton’s elite dynasties.
Such gs had velvet ropes.
Even the Schultz family might struggle for invitations.
How did Joshua–an ordinary employee–get one?
He caught her doubt, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “My boss opens doors for client meetings,” he said, gaze lingering on her,
Makes sense.
Xylia looked down, cheeks warming. He’d helped her, yet she’d questioned him.
They arrived in thick silence,
The parking lot gleamed with luxury cars, their Toyota Camry seeming pathetically small.
Inside, faces Xylia recognized from news moved through the crowd.
Joshua watched her from the corner of his eye–back straight, expression unreadable.
His thin lips twitched.
No wonder he had his eye on her.
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<b>74 </b>
55 vouchers
A manager hurried over, his face respectful the moment he saw Joshua, his smile turning
eager.
“We didn’t expect—”
Joshua lifted a brow, silent.
The manager cut himself short, forcing a smile at Xylia instead. “You happen <i>to </i>be our hundredth guest. Care to join the raffle?”
His smile stretched too wide.
The stiffness thickened.
Joshua broke the stiffness with a tilt of his chin.
“Go with him. Luck favors you.”
With nothing to lose, Xylia followed.
As she walked away, Joshua’s chuckle escaped.
Quick thinking.
He typed amand into his phone, pocketed it.
Across the ballroom, notifications pinged simultaneously.
[If you ever <i>see </i>him with thatdy in the red dress–no matter what, pretend you don’t know him.]
Guests exchanged bewildered nces. What trick was he pulling this time?
*****
The raffle corner looked shockingly makeshift–unthinkable for a g this exclusive.
The manager offered an apologetic shrug. “Our little surprise. Rushed, I admit.”
Her fingers closed around a slip marked “Grand Prize“.
Since when this lucky?
She showed the manager the slip. “Looks like luck’s on my side. Grand prize—what is it?”
…
“Secret for now,” he beamed. “Just leave your address. We’ll deliver it personally.”
Too strange.
And they wouldn’t even let her take the prize home yet.
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But a g this grand… there was no need to set up someone as penniless as her, was there?
Her hand paused mid–air. Address given.
Back in the ballroom, her eyes sought Joshua instantly.
At six–foot–three with tinum blond hair, he was impossible to miss in the crowd. Talking with a group, his broad shoulders cut down to a lean waist. Cold flickered in his eyes, his presence all chill and authority—nothing like the warmth he showed her.
Even from behind, his presence pressed down with authority.
Raised ordinary? Not likely.
She buried the questions. A faint smile touched her lips. She started toward him.
“Xylia Schultz.”
A cial presence blocked her path. Connor Ford stood before her, eyes frosted over.
“What are you doing here?”
Her pulse jumped, his chilling expression from that night shing in her mind. Xylia frowned
“A friend’s guest,” she said tly. “You’re attending too, Mr. Ford?”
“Friend.” His voice cut on the word. “What kind of friend could get you into a g like this?”
What friends could she possibly have?
Years confined to the Ford family, no social circles.
Who but Fords had this ess?
He’d cashed in favors just for an invite, all to meet the Sadler family’s head.
“Not your concern.” Xylia gave a cool smile and brushed past him without slowing,