A bold step
The following weeks were a blur for Ximena, a whirlwind of lawyers and paperwork and the dissolving of her marriage.
Miguel, true to his nature, dismissed her threats of divorce as nothing more than an empty bluff.
He believes Ximena cannot do it without him, hence refusing to finalize the divorce process. Miguel claims spilling now would affect the future they've dreamed of.
Ximena eventually slows down the divorce process. She resolves that her marriage might still be worth fighting for.
Miguel, seeing she has now given up on it, decided to continue with his ways
On a certain evening, Ximena walks in on him, speaking on a call. He talked about how he manipulates and uses her, and how she always falls into his traps.
Ximena waves it off, but Miguel's sister shoves it at her face, calling her a weakling.
The humiliations became unbearable, and Ximena finalizes the Divorce process.
Still believing she was just bluffing, Miguel signs the papers and agrees to split.
He was sure she would come back running to him in a few weeks. But he was wrong.
Ximena was not a woman to be underestimated.
After leaving Miguel, she wasted no time in seizing an opportunity to prove herself.
She contacted her father who she hadn't been on good terms with, the owner of Antonio Enterprises, a successful business with various branches in different industries.
She asked to meet him in his office. When he agreed, she made her way there with a plan already forming in her mind.
The Antonio Enterprises building was a towering structure of glass and steel, a beacon of wealth and power in the heart of the city.
Ximena felt a flutter of nerves as she approached the security desk, but she brushed them aside. She was here for a purpose, and she would not let anything stand in her way.
“Mr. Antonio’s daughter,” Ximena introduced herself, her voice steady and confident. “I have an appointment with him.”
The security guard nodded, impressed with her poise. “Of course, Miss Antonio. If you’ll follow me, please.”
Ximena followed the guard to the elevator, taking a moment to compose herself before the doors slid open.
Her father’s office was a sprawling space, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city.
Ximena stepped inside, her eyes taking in the luxurious furnishings and the wall of awards and accolades.
Her father sat behind a massive oak desk, his grey hair and sharp features instantly recognizable.
“Ximena,” he said, rising to greet her. “It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you finally came to see me after all these years.”
Ximena forced a smile. “Likewise, Father. Thank you for seeing me.”
Her father gestured to a chair, and Ximena sat, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap.
“So,” her father said, leaning back in his chair.
“What brings you here today? I hope everything is well with you and Miguel?”
Ximena’s smile faltered for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Actually, Father, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Miguel and I have separated.”
Her father’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Separated?” he echoed. “Why? What happened?”
Ximena took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It wasn’t working, Father. Miguel and I were never really... compatible. I tried to make it work, for three years I tried. But in the end, it was too much. He never loved me, never even tried to.”
Her father’s expression softened. “Ximena, I’m sorry to hear that. I know you wanted this marriage to succeed.”
Ximena nodded, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “I did,” she said.
“But now I want something else,” Ximena continued, her voice growing stronger.
“I want to make my own way in this world, to prove to everyone that I’m more than just a trophy wife. And I think I know how to do it.”
Her father’s interest was piqued. “Go on,” he said, his eyes sharp and calculating.
Ximena leaned forward in her seat, her hands now clasped in front of her. “I want to take over one of the company’s branches.”
“I want to take over one of the company’s branches,” Ximena repeated, her voice firm and confident.
“I know I don’t have much experience in the business world, but I’m willing to learn. And I think I could bring a fresh perspective to the company.”
Her father nodded, considering her proposal. “Which branch were you thinking of?” he asked.
Ximena had been prepared for this question. “The fashion branch,” she said.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “The fashion branch?” he repeated.
“That’s a bold choice. What makes you interested in that particular division?”
Ximena smiled, knowing she had him on the hook.
“Well, I’ve always been interested in fashion,” she said, leaning back in her chair.
“And I think there are a lot of opportunities to grow the business in that area. Plus, it’s an area that’s traditionally been dominated by men.”
Her father’s expression grew thoughtful as he considered Ximena’s proposal.
“I have to admit,” he said, “I’m impressed with your ambition. But this is a big undertaking, and it won’t be easy. Are you sure you’re up for the challenge?”
Ximena’s smile widened.
“I’m more than up for it,” she said, her voice steady and sure. “I’m ready to put in the work, to prove myself.”
“Very well,” her father said, his face breaking into a slow smile. “I think we can give this a try.”
Ximena’s heart leaped. She had done it. She had convinced her father to give her a chance, to let her prove herself.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, her voice catching with emotion.
Her father stood, extending his hand to her. “Welcome to the company, Ximena.
With her father’s blessing, Ximena wasted no time diving into her new role at the company. She immersed herself in the fashion division, learning everything she could about the business and the industry.
Within weeks, she was making waves, bringing fresh ideas and a new energy to the division.
The employees who had been sceptical of her at first began to see her potential, and the media took notice of the young, ambitious woman at the helm of Antonio Enterprises’ fashion division.
Months passed and Ximena’s success at the company was rapidly growing. She was becoming a force to be reckoned with in the fashion industry, making appearances at runway shows and networking events, her name quickly becoming a brand of its own.
One afternoon, Ximena found herself at the city’s fanciest shopping mall, browsing the latest designer wear and having a well-deserved day of pampering.
She felt confident, powerful, and ready to conquer whatever challenge came her way.
And that’s when he saw her.
The morning Paris skyline shimmered through soft rain.Inside a 19th-century legal building near the 2nd arrondissement, Santiago Cortez adjusted his cufflinks and paced the polished marble lobby of his legal advisor’s firm. He hadn’t slept, and his jaw ached from clenching all night.His lawyer, Étienne Fabreau, sat across from him at a long walnut table, reviewing the freshly printed petition that would decide the next 48 hours.“Are you certain about this, Mr. Cortez?” Étienne asked carefully. “Filing a claim this late—less than 48 hours before the run—raises flags. Even from you.”“I’m not asking for advice, Étienne. I’m asking for submission.”Santiago’s voice was flat. His hands, however, betrayed him—tapping lightly against the table’s edge, knuckles white.Étienne sighed and sealed the file folder.“Very well.”Inside was an urgent legal request: an **emergency injunction** to **block Antonio Fashion’s scheduled capsule presentation**, claiming the title *EXPOSURE – RECLAIMED*
The sound of the fax machine in Santiago Cortez’s Rome office was the only thing making noise that morning.No espresso cups clinking. No stylists gossiping by the elevator. Not even Lucien was pacing in and out with updates. Just paper sliding through the feeder like the quiet beginning of a storm.Santiago stared at his reflection in the darkened glass wall, still in his shirt sleeves, his blazer thrown over the couch.He hadn’t slept much.Lucien entered quietly, holding a silver folder.“I’ve compiled the investor responses,” he said.Santiago didn’t turn.“Read them.”Lucien hesitated. “Germany—on hold. Austria—paused. Denmark—cancelled.”Santiago finally turned, expression unreadable. “All citing IP review?”Lucien nodded once. “They’re waiting for clarification from DRC Europe. Apparently, the metadata files you denied under oath… have now been mirrored across three open-source archives.”Santiago walked over to the desk and opened his laptop.The front page of *ModenTrend Conf
The silence in Santiago Cortez’s Rome penthouse was unusual.No glass clinking. No rapid-fire Italian echoing down hallways. No new mood boards were scattered across the conference table.Just stillness. And one man walking the length of the living room, barefoot, thinking.He was pacing.Which meant he was cornered.Lucien stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed, watching the city fall into dusk.“She hasn’t said anything publicly,” he offered.Santiago paused mid-step. “That’s what worries me.”He picked up his phone again—his third time in fifteen minutes—and stared at the unsent message sitting in his drafts folder.**“Ximena. The industry is watching. We should speak. Not as rivals—but as visionaries. The world would pay anything to see us collaborate. Let’s talk.”**It sounded diplomatic. Reasonable. Humble.It made his skin crawl.Lucien said nothing.“Do you think she’d agree?” Santiago asked, not quite looking at him.Lucien adjusted his collar. “If she wants expos
It was almost noon when Rosa Navarro made her final mistake.She didn’t know it yet. That’s how most downfalls start—not with a scream, but with the quiet arrogance of someone who thinks they’ve gotten away with it.The hallway outside the administrative wing was unusually quiet. Most of the senior staff were at a sustainability panel, and the floor felt slower than usual—doors cracked open, office lights dim, printers humming in the distance.Rosa carried a slim silver USB in her pocket.It wasn’t the original bait Ximena had handed her days ago.This one was a **second clone**—a private backup she’d created from the USB Marco had rigged. She thought she was being clever, thought that if she modified a few of the sketches, removed the embedded ghost stitch, and cleaned the metadata, she could eliminate any forensic link between the exposure capsule and the Antonio archives.She was wrong.She entered her shared workroom with calm precision, turned on her terminal, and inserted the US
The conference room on the 18th floor was colder than usual—partly because the AC had been dialedialledpartly because Rosa Navarro’s nerves were prickling against her skin like frost.She adjusted the sleeve of her white blouse, checked her reflection in the mirror near the elevator, and forced a small breath before stepping into the room.To her surprise, it was smaller than she expected. No long tables, no intimidating half-circle of executives.Just Rafael at one end of the table, a junior tech assistant named Luis setting up a tablet, and a mid-level compliance officer from legal who barely looked up when she entered.Rosa’s heels clicked once, twice.“Rosa,” Rafael greeted, motioning to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming up.”She smiled, quick and polite. “Of course. You wanted a breakdown of the sketches?”Rafael nodded. “Just your preliminary findings. Metadata. Match ratios. Anything unusual.”?The lights overhead were soft, but Rosa could still feel her skin reactin
Ximena stood behind her desk, watching the city blur through the glass behind her. The skyline looked softer today, the haze thinning, sunlight bouncing off rooftops like glitter dust. But there was nothing soft about her mood.Not today.The knock came exactly on time.“Come in,” she said.The door opened, and Rosa stepped in with hesitant confidence. A notebook was clutched tightly to her chest.“You wanted to see me?” Rosa asked, her voice smoother than yesterday. Almost as if the rooftop breakfast had reset something in her.Ximena smiled faintly. “Yes. Come in.”She gestured to the leather seat across from her.Rosa sat, legs crossed, back straight, notebook unopened.Ximena pulled open the middle drawer of her desk and set a small black USB drive on the table. Sleek. Plain. No label.“I need your help with something… discreet,” Ximena said.Rosa’s eyes flicked to the drive.“It contains internal reference sketches,” Ximena continued. “Early capsule layouts, dating before Exposur