CHAPTER 5: Curious Little Runaway Bride

Ramona's POV

“Well, I’m Lance. Jonathan’s tight buddy. He didn’t feel like getting his hands dirty so… here I am.”

He says it with a calm and sure tone, looking straight into my soul like he already knows my dirtiest thoughts.

I narrow my eyes, still studying him.

“Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

Because something about him doesn’t add up. His eyes, they’re too unreadable. He looks like someone who’s never needed to lie before.

His lips give out a lazy laugh, the sound of it wraps around me like silk. Then he bites his lip playfully.

And I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but my knees feel just a little weaker watching him.

He doesn’t answer my question, of course not. Instead, he pulls out his phone and swipes, ignoring me like this isn’t the most bizarre moment of my life.

“Well, just know I’m Lance,” he says again, this time distractedly dialing a number in his phone.

The call connects in seconds.

“I need you to do a fast clean-up online,” he says 

“Every video of me and Ramona needs to be wiped before the hour runs out.”

My jaw actually drops a little.

“Already on it, sir.”

Sir. Sir?

Who is this man?

“Smart,” he replies, then ends the call without another word.

He turns to me with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Shall we?”

I nod like I’m not currently spiraling inside.

“Ohhh yeah.”

We step out of the car, and suddenly I feel like I’m walking next to someone important.

The hotel view is… wow. It reads VELORIA SUITES.

The floors glow like they have their own skincare routine, tall glass doors swish open like they recognize him instantly.

The hotel employees don’t even ask for a name, they just nod to him. Does he own this place too?

Of course he already has a room booked. Of course.

The room spells “Room 318,” and immediately we step in. I'm already in love with it.

Soft and cream-colored walls, huge bed with snow-white sheets tucked to perfection.

One part of the wall is all glass, with a large view of the city.

There’s almost nothing in the room, just a bed, a low dresser, a velvet chair in the corner, and clean lines everywhere. 

But it smells like absolute cleanliness and luxury. The kind that doesn’t need to brag.

He shuts the door behind us and looks over. “You like it?”

Do I like it?

“Absolutely!” I beam. Because I do. Because something about this moment makes me feel like I’m on the edge of something, new? Stupid? Exciting? I don’t even know, but I just love it.

Then I realize I’m still in this ridiculous corset dress and my ribs are begging for air.

I turn toward him, awkwardly rubbing the back of the corset.

“Uhh… can you help me loosen this?”

He raises a brow, just a little, like I’ve surprised him, and then he recovers.

“Okay. Turn around.”

My heart skips something. I’m not sure if it’s a beat or a warning, but I do as he says.

Now I’m facing the mirror. My makeup’s slightly messy, my curls still look glossy and in place.

Lance walks up behind me. He’s in all black. Of course, black looks dead hot on him and I think he knows it.

And when he stops behind me, I can feel his warmth without him even touching me yet. His cologne fills my nostrils.

Our eyes meet in the mirror. Mine are wide, nervous and curious, but his? They are calm but a little intense. Like he sees more than I want him to see.

His fingers start loosening the laces and they suddenly brush my skin. My breath catches.

I really think my body is overreacting to his presence.

“You let someone tie you up like this?” His voice is close to my ear, low and warm. My heart dances a little.

I smile at my reflection in the mirror. “It’s a corset dress. I need to look rogue-ready.”

His fingers pause. “Looks like they are more concerned with cracking your ribs. You don’t complain?”

I shrug. “I don’t know… habit, I guess. It’s just easier to stay quiet when everyone’s barking orders.”

There is silence for a beat. His hands are still moving, slower now. He isn’t just talking, he is listening.

Then he says, “You got so damn brave, by the way. Ditching your own wedding like that. Bravo, sugarlips.”

I roll my eyes, but my lips curve into a smile. The silence between us stretches for a minute.

“That girl… she seems really upset with you.”

“Who? Jenny?”

“Yeah.” I catch his smirk in the mirror before he even answers.

“So are you both a thing?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He just looks up and meets my eyes in the mirror. I feel a jolt go through me. That stare. It is too calm and too sure of itself.

“Sit down,” he says.

And I do. Immediately. Like my body is on autopilot, waiting for just his voice. I hate how quick I obey, but also… love it? Call me weird but I just do.

He kneels and starts loosening the straps of my heels. His touch is careful, like he isn’t in a hurry to leave.

“Curious little runaway bride, aren’t you?” he murmurs.

I look down at him. “Well… you did crash my wedding per request. You didn’t care about the money. You’re giving orders like some crown prince. Then you give me this sweet place to stay.”

I sigh.

“My mind is scratching with questions…Lance.”

At the mention of his name, he looks up. He smiles. It's not wide, but just enough to make my chest flutter.

“Nice to hear you finally call my name.”

I look away, blushing.

He pauses again, then says softly, “I’m not the type of man you’d like to know.”

My brows pull together. “Why?”

His eyes meet mine again. A little dark and frustrated.

“How do I make it stop?” he asks.

“Make what stop?”

“The questions you keep gurgling out.”

I blink and look away again.

Then he stands, reaches into his wallet, and pulls out a sleek black card. He places it on the table beside me like it is nothing.

“Take this. Code is 2266. Order whatever you like. Food, dress, a damn yacht if you want. Then maybe get some rest, before you decide on what next to crash.”

I stare at the black card.

“That’s my line. He hands me another black card. 

It looks too sleek and empty to be a business card but it spells “Brownstone Capital,” then a phone number at the back.

“Call me if anything comes up.”

And just like that… he turns and walks out.

Leaving me here. With a loose corset. Bare feet. And a whole storm of questions he tells me to stop asking.

I sit quietly on the bed, staring at the black card Lance had given me.

My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of everything that just happened today.

My phone rings. I pick it instantly.

“Babe! How did it go?!” Gigi’s voice slams through my ears, loud and excited.

I don’t even waste time. “Gigi, you need to come here. Right now.”

“Wait—where the fuck are you?”

“Umm… Veloria Suites. Room 318.”

“What about the fucking wedding?!” Gigi shouted.

“Too many things to say. Just come.”

“Wait, you finally left that creep at the altar?! Damn it! You’re good, Mona!”

I blink in surprise.

“Bitch, I’m in front of your door!”

I jump up and rush to the door, laughing. I open it—no one.

I shake my head, smiling. “So Gigi.”

I sit back on the bed and take a breath. This is one of those rare moments I can breathe freely.

Gigi isn't just my best friend. She's almost like my safe place. Though loud, bold, crazy, but loyal.

She knows all my secrets, even the ones I couldn’t say out loud, and I know hers, even the most disgusting ones.

A few minutes later, the door bursts open.

“MONAAAAA!” Gigi shouted, strutting in like the place is hers.

She looks like a movie scene, curvy in a short ripped denim skirt and an oversized black crop tee that says “Talk Trash, I Talk Back.”

Her hoop earrings are bouncing as she walks and her dark blonde hair is tied in a high bun with messy strands falling by her cheeks.

She smells like a hot, real time mix of vanilla and cocoa.

“I missed you, bitch!” she yelled, hugging me tight.

“I missed you too Gigs.”

“Ok Spill spill spill!” Gigi said, slipping off her shoes and climbing on the bed.

“Gigi… Jonathan isn’t who we thought he was. Either he sent someone else, or it was all a setup.”

“A setup? How?”

“He didn’t show up. He sent someone else in his place.”

Gigi’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Wait-wait-wait. Who’s ‘someone else’?”

“His name is Lance.”

“Lance? Whoooo! Sexy! Your life’s a whole-ass Hollywood show right now!”