Semua Bab Beautiful But Unlucky : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Anora sipped her mimosa like a queen watching a royal scandal unfold. Charlotte sat to my right, leaning on her elbow, sunglasses perched on her head, while Sarah absently stirred honey into her chamomile tea, her soft eyes flitting between the group.And me?I sat quietly in the middle of it all, the folder still vivid in my mind even though it wasn’t in my hands anymore.“You’ve got to say yes,” Charlotte said bluntly, stabbing her salad like it had personally offended her. “It’s Herald. Global. Once-in-a-lifetime.”Anora nodded, swirling the liquid in her flute. “And let’s be honest - no one could have carried that shoot like you did. Not even Julien in her pre-filler era.”Sarah smiled sweetly. “You have something few of us have. It’s not just beauty. The camera sees it.”I bit my lip, fingers grazing the edge of my linen napkin. “It’s just… fast. Everything’s happening fast. I’m still catching my breath.”“Silvia,” Anora said gently, “you got to this point by your hardwork and ta

Calvin’s POV---The morning light had barely breached the edges of the skyline when my phone exploded on the marble nightstand. Not one call - four, back to back. The kind that signaled crisis.I blinked against the sharp throb behind my eyes and sat up slowly, bare chest still rising with the rhythm of a sleep I’d only barely fallen into. My slacks were still on. I hadn’t even made it to bed properly.Not after her.The scent of her still clung to me. Faint vanilla and something darker. Earthy. Rich. Her body had trembled around my fingers. Her moans still echoed in my ears.Silvia.God, her name tasted like something I wasn’t supposed to want - and wanted anyway.I swiped my phone off the table, exhaling through my nose. I should have known this was coming.Damon Riego – Incoming Call.Hell.I stared at the screen for two full seconds, then answered with a slow, deliberate drag of breath.“Calvin - ”The voice roared before I could speak. A jagged bellow, all fury and patriarchal p

Silvia’s POVHe stepped around the desk, and I tensed as he got closer. His cologne hit me first—spice, citrus, and sin.“I didn’t plan this,” he said softly, voice like thunder under velvet. “But maybe it’s the opening I needed.”I blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”He stared at me for a beat too long.Then said, “My father wants me to marry Anielle Handall.”I froze.“I’m sorry, what?”“Anielle Song,” he repeated. “Only daughter of Harold Handall. Their family owns over half of West Manhattan’s waterfront development. My father thinks uniting us will create a real estate empire worthy of legacy.”My head spun. “Why are you telling me this?”“Because I don’t want it,” he said flatly. “Not the empire. Not her. Not the pressure to carry Damon Riego’s golden crown when all I want is to live outside his shadow.”He moved toward the glass wall behind him, hands in his pockets. “Deva was my rebellion. I built it from scratch with Justin. I love this company. But my father sees it as

Silvia’s POV---The air above Manhattan was cool, kissed with summer’s farewell. Below, the city bubbled with life - cars bleeding light through rain-washed streets, distant music curling around rooftop edges. But up here, it felt like another world entirely.The rooftop had been transformed for the night - gilded candlelight flickering over crystal glasses, a string quartet tucked discreetly in the corner, playing something soft and old. I couldn’t name the song. I could barely remember how to breathe.Across from me, Calvin Riego sat like he was born for this kind of spotlight. Black on black - suit, shirt, confidence. His jaw was a blade, his smile a weapon. And when his eyes met mine, it was like everything beneath me trembled.I knew it wasn’t real.I reminded myself with every sip of wine.But the way he reached across the white-linen tablecloth, fingers brushing mine as he poured, his shirt raising above his wrist to reveal veined forearms under a hold watch… made my heart ski

Silvia’s POV---Rome always felt like a dream someone else had first.The golden city shimmered under the low sun, the stones beneath my heels warm and aged, steeped in the ghosts of centuries. I stood at the edge of the Herald Drinks shoot platform - marble columns towering behind me, the iconic skyline glittering in the distance - and for a moment, I let myself believe I belonged here.The silk gown flowed like liquid fire down my body, hugging my frame like it was painted on. The wind lifted the hem just enough to tease, not enough to taint. The camera adored me. The crew whispered. The flashbulbs kissed my skin like reverence.I was a goddess in a city built for gods.And yet… I felt hollow.Because Calvin left.He’d watched the first few takes in silence, leaning on a column with his arms folded, eyes masked. No teasing remarks. No subtle brushes of fingertips. No soft, lingering gazes like that night under the Manhattan stars.Just a nod. A word to the director. Then he was gon