Five Years ago

Chapter Eight

Five Years Ago – Christiana’s POV

I'm sure you would be wondering how I got to meet my nemesis, Bella Calamida.

This is the story, five years ago.

The mall was unusually quiet that afternoon, the kind of quiet that makes every sound feel amplified, as though the space itself is holding its breath.

My designer heels clicked softly against the polished marble of the luxury wing at the Houston Galleria, echoing louder than they had any right to. It was almost meditative, the way the noise bounced off the high ceilings and sleek storefronts.

I wasn’t there to shop. My closet didn’t need another pair of pumps or a clutch with a logo embossed in gold, but when you’re raised in a world where comfort looks like marble floors and perfume counters, it’s easy to wander there like a ghost retracing old steps.

My driver was somewhere outside, doing loops around the valet entrance while I pretended I had a destination. I didn’t. I just needed air that smelled like luxury and candles I had no intention of lighting.

I just needed space. That’s what I had asked for on my birthday.

It was my twenty-third year on earth and it's just a reminder for me that I had to dive into the life of a businesswoman that deals with corrupt politicians.

Since I was born, my father had always rang it like a bell in my ears that it was my responsibility to control the affairs of Salazar Empire.

I was the only heir to the throne and a lot of responsibility was placed on my shoulders.

He gave me a time frame to prepare while he helped me with so much overwhelming resources to prepare me like the degrees I got and also extra business classes abroad.

I've seen what the world is like, the world of being a business woman that have to deal with corrupt and covetous human beings on earth.

I met politicians and powerful men that disgusts me so much I want to ignore my futures as the chairwoman of Salazar empire.

I was supposed to take over from my father as soon as I turned 30 and that has put a lot of restrictions in my life.

My father had given me ultimatums times without numbers and with my mother's continuous love and support, I have endured.

My only friend was Tony, who was also in this world, so I haven't ever experienced life outside this world.

I haven't tasted freedom. I was also covetous in my own way.

Every other human being I have met have one thing or the other that they desired the most, mine was freedom.

Those politicians desires material things.

I've met powerful men who desired extra life, they're so scared of death.

I had lived 23 years and I am scared of getting closer to 30.

Seven years looked like the next day because I wasn't even close to getting my freedom.

I couldn't even freely decide for myself whatever I wanted, decisions are being made for me.

My father told me I would get married when I turn 28 to one of his disgusting Arab's men son but my mother had fought against it, my mother was a Christian and wouldn't allow me to marry into a Muslim family.

So, the talk about me ever getting married seized to exist.

And I dare not marry just anybody.

I had to marry right, I had to marry a man that would help me in controlling the Salazar Empire.

It sucks to be born with a silver spoon, and I wanted freedom as my birthday gift everytime.

My mom, being my mom, had tried to make it a spectacle. An entire brunch at The St. Regis, followed by a spa suite booked for “just us girls” and a cake that probably cost more than some people’s rent. But I told her no. Told her I wasn’t in the mood for centerpieces or chefs in tall white hats singing off-key.

What I really wanted was silence and freedom

That’s when I saw Bella.

She was standing a few stores ahead of me, just off to the right at the Marc Jacobs boutique. The glass wall reflected her like a portrait: tall and slender, her beauty unassuming at first glance, but undeniable the longer you looked. Her curls were tucked into a high bun, her posture just a little slouched, her frame draped in clothes that had clearly been chosen for their ability to imitate wealth rather than embody it.

What caught my eye was the covetousness in her eyes when she looked.

It was something I was so used to seeing in people's eyes.

At first, I thought she was one of the workers in the mall that was dreaming of having one of those designer wears as that, but curious me, I kept watching her.

She wasn’t just browsing. She was studying the designers like she wanted to go back home and make her own counterfeit.

She admired with so much longing.

Her eyes lingered on a burgundy leather handbag like it was something sacred, not just an accessory, but a symbol. The way she brushed her fingers along the edge of the display, so gently it barely counted as a touch, told me everything.

She didn’t have the money, but she had the desire.

I saw a part of myself in that look. A different version. One who hadn’t been born into money. One who still knew how to want things she couldn’t have.

Then her phone rang.

I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but she wasn’t exactly quiet. “Hi, Mom,” she answered, voice trying to sound cheerful. She paused, then let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. It’s my birthday. No, I’m not doing anything. Just... looking around. Window shopping.” Another pause. Her tone dipped. “No, I haven’t eaten yet. I will. Don’t worry.”

She hung up after a few more seconds, her face crumbling for a brief moment before she masked it with a neutral expression. She turned back to the display and touched the edge of a bracelet like it hurt her.

Something about her made me approach her.

Without thinking too much about it, I stepped closer. “Excuse me,” I said softly, trying not to startle her.

She looked up, startled, her eyes wide and guarded. “Yes?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” I said, offering a smile. “It’s your birthday?”

Her brows drew together with suspicion. “Yeah. Why?”

I grinned. “It’s mine too.”

Her lips parted slightly. “Seriously?”

" I am dead serious.” I pulled out my phone and showed her the date on the lock screen. “See?”

She blinked. “Wow. That’s… actually really weird, what are the odds.”

“I know, right?” I laughed lightly. “Birthday twins. Clearly fate.”

"How many more years do you have before you get to the dreaded 30?"

"I am 23 today, so I have 7 more years."

"Aww. I am a year older. I am 6 more years to the dreaded 30"

"And how's that working for you?"

"Pathetically but I know one thing for sure, I am getting married to a billionaire before 30"

"That's faith speaking"

Her suspicion started to fade. A small, tentative smile tugged at her mouth. “Well, happy birthday, then.”

“You too,” I said. I glanced back at the shelves she’d been browsing. “Pick whatever you want.”

She blinked. “What?”

I nodded toward the display. “Whatever you want. My treat.”

She laughed, a short, disbelieving sound. “Wait… what?”

I shrugged. “It’s your birthday and mine. Let’s call it a weird karmic gift. Go on. Shop.”

She stared at me like I’d just offered her the deed to a house. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.”

Her mouth fell open. “Okay… okay, hold up. Who even are you?”

“Christiana,” I said, extending my hand. "I am Christiana Salazar"

She shook it, still dazed. “Bella Calamida.”

“Well, Bella,” I said with a smile, “happy birthday. Go nuts.”

And just like that, her eyes lit up like a child who’d just been told she could live in a candy store. She didn’t even hesitate. She went straight to the handbag, then the shoes. And as I watched her, I didn’t feel regret or guilt. I felt… good. Like I’d done something kind.

We sat in the café afterward, sipping iced lattes and laughing about strangers, shopping fails, and ridiculous celebrity outfits. She told me she was saving up for fashion school, that she modelled on the side and did freelance makeup to make ends meet. Her mom was a nurse. She was tired of struggling.

I told her about my family. My dad’s empire. My mom’s obsession with tea parties and reputation. She listened intently. Asked the right questions. Laughed at the right places.

I didn’t know it then, couldn’t have known, that I’d just given a stranger more than handbags and birthday cake.

I had given her access.