Chapter 3

Yasmine’s POV

It’s an early Friday morning, and I decide to stay in. The apartment is quiet except for the sound of Matt moving around in his room, getting ready for work. Mark had left before sunrise, off to another audition, he’s chasing a spot in one of the biggest rock bands in the state.

I finish setting the breakfast table just as Matt emerges in a sleek Armani suit.

“Wow, Yaz, you didn’t have to do this,” he says, surprised.

I smile softly. “I wanted to. Besides, it’s nothing much.”

The plates are filled with a full English breakfast eggs, sausages, beans, toast. My comfort meal. Nathan used to sneer at me for eating “heavy foods,” almost body-shaming me into believing my curves made me unworthy. But I know better now. I’m not fat. I’m plump, trim-waisted, and not his type of bony runway models. And I’m fine with that.

As Matt sips his juice, he leans back, watching me. “I’ve got a fundraising charity gala tonight. Mostly business networking, some big names. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Me?” I blink.

“Yes, you.” He shrugs. “You can’t stay locked away after what Nathan did. Besides, leaving you here alone feels wrong.” His smile turns teasing. “Come have fun with me tonight.”

I hesitate, but his eyes are insistent. Finally, I nod. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Good.” He grins, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before rushing out the door.

When silence settles again, I sigh and dial Lia, my lawyer.

“Good morning, Yasmine,” she answers warmly.

“Morning, Lia. I need you to handle something. Nathan and I are over. I want my share of the condo, whether he sells it or pays me out. It might get messy, so I need you to step in.”

“Of course. I’ll handle everything. And thank God you listened when I warned you not to open a joint account with him. That man is trouble.”

I chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Lia.”

As I hang up, a strange calm washes over me. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m taking my power back.

*********

Luca’s POV

The meeting with Fallon Inc. directors drags on, but patience is part of power. Damian La Rosa, my cousin and hedge fund manager, lays out papers before me. On paper, he’s the CEO. In reality, he works for me.

“Three more months,” he says, “and we’ll finish laundering everything. Then you can move fully into legitimate businesses.”

“How much is left?”

“Six hundred fifty million.”

I nod slowly. “Four hundred went through the hedge fund. Two-fifty through the casinos.”

“Correct.”

Good. That leaves the books clean, and the Guardia Finanziaria the Italian Financial Police, still in the dark.

I glance at my watch. “That’s enough for today. I have an event to attend tonight.”

********

Yasmine’s POV

By 7:30 p.m., I’m ready. A velvet-red wrap dress hugs my curves, stopping mid-thigh. Gold-strapped heels elongate my legs, and a matching clutch glimmers in my hand. My makeup is simple just mascara and lipstick but it’s enough.

Matt sends a driver, and soon I’m stepping out of a Mercedes in front of the hotel. Matt whistles when he sees me.

“Damn, Yaz. You look hot.”

The ballroom is a glittering sea of chandeliers, champagne, and powerful people. Politicians. Business moguls. Celebrities.

“Yasmine, I want to donate some of your paintings tonight,” Matt says casually as we walk in.

“Of course. No problem.”

He leads me to a table where familiar faces wait: two top lawyers, Damian La Rosa of Fallon Inc., and a clinging Hollywood starlet on his arm. We exchange pleasantries, but soon Matt is drawn away, chasing an opportunity to speak with the chairwoman of Stanbic Group.

“Go,” I urge him. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He kisses my cheek and disappears into the crowd.

I wander onto the balcony, champagne in hand, drinking in the glittering skyline. For once, I let myself breathe.

*********

Luca’s POV

The balcony is dim, a welcome escape from the noise inside. I prefer shadows to spotlights.

But then, she appears.

Curves wrapped in velvet-red, skin glowing in the city lights. She leans against the railing, unaware she isn’t alone.

My chest tightens. Sin in a dress.

“Who is this dark nymph gracing me with her presence?” My voice slices through the night.

She startles, turning. And my breath catches. Her.

“My name is Luca Rossi,” I say, extending a hand. “May I have yours?”

She takes it, her touch electric. “Yasmine Fernandez.”

“The artist?”

“Yes.”

A slow smile curls my lips. “I’m a great admirer of your work. I own nearly all of your collections.”

She blushes faintly. “What an honor.”

I offer my arm. She accepts. Together, we step back inside, and for the first time in a long time, I feel the stir of something dangerous.

********

Yasmine’s POV

The MC’s voice booms across the ballroom.

“Now, for tonight’s highlight! One lucky lady will volunteer for three charity dinner dates. On the count of three ...”

“One… two…”

I blink. Chairs scrape. Women scurry back to their seats.

And then,silence.

I’m the only one left standing. Beside Luca.

The crowd erupts in laughter.

“No! Wait.....” My cheeks burn.

The MC grins. “Looks like we have our volunteer! Miss, please come on stage.”

I glance at Luca, panicked.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice dark velvet.

I swallow. “It’d be cowardly to run. Besides… you can always bid on me.” I pat his arm and rush forward.

The spotlight blinds me. The MC’s voice booms again.

“Starting bid.......Eight hundred thousand dollars!”

Paddles fly.

“Eight-fifty!”

“One million!”

“Two million!”

The crowd is buzzing, drunk on competition. My heart slams.

Then—

“Five million,” Luca’s voice cuts through like a blade.

Gasps ripple.

“Six million!” another man yells.

Luca doesn’t even blink. “Ten million.”

The room goes silent.

Ten million. For me.

The MC slams his gavel. “Sold! Congratulations, Mr. Rossi!”

I stumble off the stage, champagne forgotten, pulse hammering.

Matt rushes to my side. “Babe, that was insane. Ten million?”

I can only shrug, my mind spinning.

Because across the room, Luca Rossi’s eyes are still on me.