Chapter Three — Before the Ball...

Diana Cross

Three days earlier...

The day threatened to be long and suffocating.

The atmosphere here inside Valmont & Co. was exceptionally tense.

My stress began the moment my commute was delayed, nearly making me late.

Arriving late today—specifically today—could mean the end of my career.

I adjusted my blouse collar with trembling fingers and looked around at everyone hard at work.

"What's going on around here, Beatriz?" I asked in a hushed whisper, approaching her desk.

Beatriz, the executive secretary I assist, looked up with an anxious expression.

Muffled, raised voices echoed directly from the boardroom.

A heated argument was taking place inside.

"Thank goodness you're here, Diana!"

She exclaimed under her breath in near panic.

Beatriz clasped her hands on her desk, gesturing frantically while glancing at the heavy wooden door.

"If Mr. Francesco comes out and doesn't see you here, we'd both be finished," she vented, wiping cold sweat from her forehead.

"It was already a struggle to convince him I actually needed an assistant to help me."

Bea has been my friend since our university days and proved to be my guardian angel when I arrived in Florence.

She reached out and landed me this job, knowing how desperately I needed a fresh start away from my past.

"You can tell how heavy the mood is, can't you?" she continued, arranging her desk.

She tapped a stack of papers against the wood, sorting documents I needed to take to the legal department.

"Who's in there with him that got him so furious? The man is literally screaming!"

I opened my bag quickly, stowing my personal items while trying to soothe my racing heart.

"It's his unpleasant daughter and his wife. They hardly ever show up here. It must be something serious."

I took off my heavy coat, hanging it over the back of my chair with hands still unsteady from the tension.

"That Antonella girl, sour as a lemon?" We chuckled softly at my comment.

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, feeling entirely disheveled after rushing through the cold.

The echo of a heavy fist slamming against a desk boomed from inside the main office, making us jump.

The commanding, relentless tone coming from within made it clear: the world of powerful men in this company was dangerous.

The boardroom door suddenly flew open with a thud, shattering the tense silence.

Antonella stormed out, her cheeks flushed red and her footsteps heavy, while her mother followed close behind.

Vittória gestured nervously in the air, trying in vain to calm her daughter down.

"I won't let that idiot ignore me like this!"

Antonella blurted out, her voice thick with rage.

She wiped away a streak of smudged makeup with her long nails, spinning around abruptly to face her mother.

"He's treating me like I'm nobody, mamma!" she added, her voice trembling with humiliation.

Bea and I hunched our shoulders immediately, fixing our eyes on the papers covering the desk.

We played invisible, pretending to notice nothing as if we were part of the furniture during their dramatic display.

"Calm down, my daughter! Watch your manners," Vittória whispered, gripping the young woman's arm firmly.

She glanced at us briefly, visibly embarrassed, before resuming her attempt to persuade her daughter.

"There's no turning back now. You have to accompany him to the ball, and we cannot break our agreement with his parents."

Hearing those words triggered a sharp pang deep in my chest, making my stomach churn.

Being forced to do what others demand is never easy or pleasant.

It was almost a mirror of my own suffocating past, the very ghost I was trying to run from.

"I'm not going to any stupid ball!" Antonella snarled, yanking her arm away from her mother's grip.

With a dramatic flourish, she held up a black envelope adorned with shimmering gold accents.

"He's going to have to crawl back to me! He'll have to find me and propose, just like you promised!"

In a fit of rage, she threw the luxurious envelope straight into the stainless-steel trash can beside Bea's desk.

"Don't do that, Antonella! Have you lost your mind?" Vittória gasped, stepping forward with wide eyes.

The older woman reached her well-manicured hand toward the bin, but recoiled instantly with a look of disgust.

"Leave that trash right there, mamma!" Antonella sneered, crossing her arms and holding her chin high.

"If he really wants to take me, he can use his own invitation! I couldn't care less."

"What are you two still doing out here?" a deep, authoritative voice boomed, cutting off their bickering.

Mr. Francesco appeared at his office doorway, his brow furrowed in utter annoyance.

An aura of power and control radiated from him, making the air in the hallway feel thin.

"Vittória, get your daughter out of here right now," he ordered, adjusting his tie knot impatiently.

"She's given me enough of a headache for one day. Go, and make sure everything stays on track."

Vittória grabbed her daughter firmly by the arm and dragged her toward the high-speed elevators.

Antonella marched off, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor as she complained and gestured in outrage.

"And you two, get back to work! The show's over," our boss barked, pointing a finger in our direction.

His sharp, commanding tone echoed down the corridor, making us jump in our chairs.

He turned on his heel, stepped back into his office, and slammed the door so hard the walls seemed to shake.

A chaotic, uncomfortable silence settled over the entire floor.

Other employees nearby, who had been discreetly watching the drama unfold, rushed back to their duties.

"Wow... Rich people are completely crazy!" Bea whispered, exhaling the breath she'd been holding.

I, however, could barely tear my eyes away from the stainless-steel bin, burning with curiosity about what was inside.

"What could be so important inside that envelope?" I asked, leaning forward.

We both stared at the trash can at the same time, as if the paper inside were calling out to us.

I couldn't resist. I stood up from my chair, walked over to the bin, and carefully retrieved the luxurious envelope.

The dark paper had a heavy, satin texture, exuding pure elegance and extravagance.

I ran my fingers over the golden wax seal, opened the flap, and pulled out the thick card stored inside.

Bea set her pen down on her desk and hurried over, craning her neck to read over my shoulder.

"Girl... This is a VIP invitation to the Florence Annual Trade Association Ball!" she gasped, her eyes wide.

She practically snatched the card from my hand, tracing the embossed lettering in fascination.

"A ball? A masquerade with luxurious gowns, masks, and everything?" I asked, feeling my heart accelerate.

"Exactly! People in high society would give an arm and a leg for one of these, Diana."

"And we just found one tossed straight into the trash..." she remarked with a disbelieving laugh, tinged with frustration.

"I wish I were single and free to take this invitation... I'd go in a heartbeat just to mingle with that crowd."

She sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around herself as her mind wandered far from the reality of the office.

"Can you imagine? Drinking the finest champagne for free and eating caviar all night..." she added dreamily.

I stayed silent, listening to my friend's confession, knowing all too well the cold, exhausting routine of her marriage.

A bitter wave of memories struck me, sending a chill down my spine under the weight of my past.

I used to be just like that: married, submissive, dedicating every second of my life to a man I thought loved me.

A scoundrel who ultimately betrayed me in the worst way with my own best friend, stripping away my dignity and leaving me with nothing.

I clenched my fists, feeling an old resentment flare up deep within my chest.

It had been far too long since I had done anything for myself—anything to break out of this dull, gray routine.

I had been alone in Florence for a year, surviving one day at a time without close friends, excitement, or romance.

I stared at the gold card in her hand as a daring, dangerous idea began to take shape in my mind.

"Do you think... they'll even notice it's missing or ask for it back?" I whispered, narrowing my eyes.

Bea froze for a second, absorbing the tone of my voice and the spark of mischief in my eyes.

"What invitation?" she asked, a knowing smile spreading across her face as she gave me a sly wink.

She turned, walked calmly back to her desk, and sat down with flawless posture.

"The cleaning crew just passed through and emptied all the hallway trash. There's nothing left in that bin."

She had read my innermost thoughts, giving me the green light I needed to take the leap.

It was absolute madness, a massive gamble that could jeopardize my job.

Yet I pressed the envelope against my chest, my mind made up.

I was going to that masquerade ball.