You've Got To Be Kidding Me

The glass doors of La Vega Group of companies swung open with a sharp hiss, announcing the arrival of its CEO.

Luciano De La Vega strode in, his jaw tight, the crease between his brows deep enough to cut marble. His tailored suit, usually a flawless armor of elegance, still carried faint dust on the sleeve from when the taxi had splashed against it earlier.

His stride was clipped, calculated, but brimming with suppressed fury.

Employees, sensing the storm in their boss’s aura, lowered their gaze to their screens and whispered to each other only after he passed. No one dared crossed his path.

“Mr. Grad!” Luciano’s voice sliced through the cool morning air of the executive floor.

Mr. Grad, nearly dropping the files he was carrying, he scrambled into Lucioano’s office, his face already set in apologetic likeness.

“Yes,. Sir?”

Luciano slammed his briefcase on the desk. “Where the hell were you this morning?”

Grad blinked. “Sir, I…”

“My car broke down halfway across Midtown!” Luciano’s voice rose, the memory fueling his rage.

“I had to hail a taxi like a common man. Do you know what happened? The driver, impatient fool that he was, drove off while I was still arguing with some…. Woman. Splashed water all over me, my suit, Grad!” he jabbed as finger at his sleeve, his tone bordering on incredulous outrage.

“Do you have any idea what it means to start the day with that kind of humiliation?”

Grad adjusted his glasses nervously. “Sir, I… my phone must have been silent. I didn’t realize…”

”You didn’t realize?” Luciano cut in, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.

“You’re mu assistant. Your one job is to be reachable at all times. What exactly are you assisting me with if I can’t reach you when I need you most?”

Grad bowed his head. “I sincerely apologize, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Luciano exhaled heavily, lowering himself into his chair.

He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, but the image that danced behind his lids was not of his broken car, but her.

He opened his eyes abruptly, his fists lightning on the armrest.

“Infuriating woman,” he muttered under his breath.

Across the city, in the sprawling Torres mansion, Camilla sat in the sunlit parlor; her legs crossed elegantly, her eyes tracing the rim of the teacup in her hand.

She wasn’t in the mood for morning tea, but it was easier to sip than to listen.

Her father’s voice, deep and commanding, echoed through the room. “Camilla, this marriage isn’t about you alone. It’s about our legacy. Torres Holdings is hanging by a loose thread, and aligning with the De La Vega family could save us from bankruptcy.”

Camilla set her cup down carefully. “You mean marrying me off could save you from bankruptcy,” she said dryly.

Mr. Torres frowned, his salt-pepper brows knitting together.

“Don’t make it sound cheap. It’s a strategic alliance; you’re my daughter, the only one I can trust to make this work.

Do you think I’d ask this of you if it wasn’t important?”

She looked away, her gaze wandering over the chandelier glittering above. A part of her wanted to argue, to throw his words back at him. But another part, the part that had lived long enough in her father’s world, knew better.

She was his pawn, and pawns didn’t get to choose their battles.

“When is this blind date?” she asked finally, her voice subdued.

A flicker of relief crossed his face. “This weekend, the De La Vegas are expecting it. It’s important you make a good impression.”

Camilla gave a small, bitter laugh. “A good impression for a business transaction disguised as a marriage.”

“Camilla….”

She stood, smoothing down her skirt, her composure flawless. “Fine, father, I’ll go. I’ll play the part you want me to.”

At La Vega Group of companies, Luciano stared out of his office window, the city sprawling beneath him like a chessboard.

He’d been due to travel to china that week for a deal, but his mother had insisted, no demanded that he show up for the blind date arranged by their elders.

Ordinarily, he would have refused. But, after the morning’s humiliation, a part of him simmered with restless energy,. craving distraction.

“Cancel my trip to china,” he told Grad flatly.

Grad looked startled. “Sir, the negotiations….”

“That can wait, inform them I’ll reschedule.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was on a Saturday evening, and the upscale restaurant hummed with low jazz, golden lights shimmering off crystal glasses.

Luciano arrived first, his tall frame draped in an impeccably tailored suit, his expression unreadable.

He loathed blind dates; they reeked of desperation and obligation. Still, he waited, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. As he stepped away for a moment to make use of the rest room, he nearly collided with her.

The woman from the street.

Camilla froze, recognition flashing across her features, followed swiftly by amusement. “You,” she breathed, her lips curving into that same infuriating smile.

Luciano’s jaw tightened. “You again.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled, “she teased, brushing past him.

“I promise I didn’t follow you here.”

He turned his glare sharp.

“Careful sweetheart, you’ve embarrassed me once; don’t tempt me into returning the favor.”

Her laughter, soft and melodic, made his irritation skied.

“Still nursing your pride over that suit?”

He was about to retort when the hostess approached. “Mr. De La Vega, your date has arrived.”

Luciano’s brow furrowed, confusion momentarily flickering, until the hostess gestured toward Camilla.

Her smirk faded as realization hit. “Wait…. You?”

Luciano’s lips parted, and for the first time that night, a genuine sound escaped him, a dark, incredulous chuckle.

”You’ve got to be kidding me.”

They sat across from each other, the candlelight between them flickering like a referee to a duel.

Camilla crossed her arms, her chin tilting up defiantly. “Of all the men in New York, I had to be stuck with you?”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” Luciano drawled. “I expected someone with class. Not…..” his gaze flickered to her dress, lingering just a fraction too long. “….an actress from my morning nightmare.”

Camilla leaned in, her voice honeyed but sharp.

“And I expected someone with manners. Not a man who sulks over a little splash of water.”

He gave a humorless smile. “You call mocking a stranger in public manners?”

“I call it honesty,:” she shot back. “You wear arrogance like a second skin. Someone had to pop your bubble.”

Lucisno’s eyes narrowed. “And you? What are you, desperate enough to let your father barter you off to the De La Vegas?’

The words hung between them like a blade. Camilla stiffened, her smile faltering. “At least I don’t need to hide behind my wealth to feel important.”

The silence that followed was thick, and dangerous.

Finally, Luciano pushed his chair back, tossing his napkin onto the table. “This was a mistake.”

Camilla stood too, her eyes flashing fire. “On that, we agree.”

They turned, storming off in opposite directions, leaving the table untouched, and the candle sputtering in their wake.

Fate, however, wasn’t done with them, not yet.