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39. Make Them Believe Whatever
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2026-01-08 22:19:27
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Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 43. Love Triangle In Malibu
MARISSAHe didn't just watch; he threw the sliding door open with such force it nearly jumped its tracks. Tina was right behind him, clutching a silk robe, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and calculated excitement.The four of us stood in a frozen tableau. A long, agonizing silence stretched through the room, broken only by the sound of Tristan’s ragged breathing and the distant roar of the Pacific. It was the kind of silence that precedes a landslide—heavy, suffocating, and loaded with three years of unsaid things."What the hell gives you the right to barge in here?" Dante’s voice broke the silence, but it wasn't a shout. It was a low, dangerous growl. He didn't let go of me; if anything, he pulled me tighter against his chest, making sure Tristan saw every inch of the intimacy he had interrupted.Tristan’s gaze darted from Dante’s hands to my flushed face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked like a man who had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were
Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 42. Heart Rhythm In Malibu
MARISSAThe drive to Malibu was a silent war of nerves. Dante insisted on driving me himself in his black obsidian Ferrari, leaving the corporate shuttles and Tristan’s silver Bentley trailing in our wake. Every time I glanced in the rearview mirror, I could see Tristan’s car—constant, looming, and suffocatingly close.When we pulled into the driveway of the Vance Beach Estate, the air changed. The scent of salt and expensive cedarwood filled the car. The estate was a sprawling masterpiece of glass and bleached wood, perched precariously on a cliff overlooking the Pacific. It was a place built for romance, for transparency, for the kind of intimacy that could either heal a soul or dismantle it.As the staff began unloading luggage, Tristan and Tina pulled up. Tina stepped out, looking like she was heading to a photoshoot rather than a creative retreat, her hand immediately finding Tristan’s forearm."Welcome," Tristan said, though his eyes never left mine. He looked weary, the bravado
Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 41. The Sudden Retreat
MARISSAThe next day, I sat in the executive lounge, watching the steam rise from my tea, when Tristan walked in. He wasn't alone. Tina was draped over his arm, her fingers dug into his blazer with a ferocity that screamed of a woman marking territory.What the hell is going on?Has he suddenly come back to his senses and now feels like he doesn’t care about me anymore?Tristan looked at me, and for a second, the mask of indifference he was trying to wear slipped. He looked like he wanted to fall at my feet, but then he glanced at Tina and his jaw set into a hard, stubborn line.“Oh…I know what this is all about.” I thought aloud. “Dante’s presence must have hit him hard. How pathetic.” I thought grimly. "The board has approved a creative retreat," Tristan announced, his voice projecting to the few designers gathered in the room. "The Silver Silk Collection is under too much pressure. We’re heading to the Vance Beach Estate in Malibu for the weekend. Mandatory for all senior staff."
Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 40. You Can’t Win Like That, Marissa
TRISTANThe office no longer felt like my sanctuary. It felt like a stage where I was the only actor who hadn't been given the script.For three days, Dante Virelli had made himself a permanent fixture in the Vance headquarters. He didn't just stay in the boardroom; he drifted through the halls as if he owned the air we breathed. Every time I looked up from my desk, I saw him. He was in the design studio, leaning over Marissa’s shoulder as she sketched. He was in the breakroom, making the interns laugh while he waited for her coffee.How could a multi billionaire be so accessible?I would grit my teeth in rage as I watched his every movement. I stood by my window, my fingers dug into the edge of the mahogany sill. Below, in the courtyard, I watched them. Dante was handing her a bouquet of white lilies—not the cheap kind you find at a florist, but rare, exotic blooms that probably cost more than my first car."He’s doing it again," I whispered, the glass fogging with my breath.I watc
Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 39. Make Them Believe Whatever
MARISSAI walked out of the boardroom with my head held high, the rhythmic click of my heels on the polished marble sounding like a countdown Tristan wasn't prepared for. Behind me, I could practically feel the heat radiating from him—a cocktail of wounded pride and suffocating jealousy. He didn't have to say a word; the way his breath hitched when Dante leaned toward me told me everything I needed to know.I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I had spent years being the one who watched him walk away; now, I was the one setting the pace.Dante placed a proprietary hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the secluded terrace that overlooked the fashion district. The gesture was smooth, practiced, and intentionally visible to every board member lingering in the hall."You certainly know how to make an entrance, Dante," I said once the heavy glass doors muffled the chaos of the office. I leaned against the stone railing, the cool morning air catching the stray strands of my h
Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon 38. Virelli-Vance Clash
TRISTANI didn't walk back to my office; I prowled. Every nerve in my body felt raw, scorched by the memory of Marissa’s cold, surgical dismissal. The air in the executive suite felt too thin, vibrating with the echo of Dante Virelli’s public claim. I needed silence. I needed to plot. I needed to find a way to breathe again.Instead, I found Tina.She was draped across my leather sofa, tapping her manicured nails against her phone screen with a rhythmic, grating click. She looked up as I slammed the door, her eyes narrowed with a suspicion that had been festering since the gala."Where have you been, Tristan?" she demanded, not bothering to move. "I called you twenty times. The gala was a disaster, and you’ve been ghosting me ever since. People are talking. They’re laughing.""Not now, Tina," I rasped, my back to her as I poured a glass of scotch. She was such a hypocrite. She had attended the gala with another man. And now she was here pretending like she cared. My hands were sha
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