Christiana's POV.
The banquet hall gleamed, each chandelier had a soft, golden glow that reflected off the carefully arranged display cases. I walked through the space, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
This was the day. My day. The culmination of months of hard work. My employees and I had crafted each piece with precision, creating a line of jewelry that reflected the power, elegance, and resilience I demanded.
Gold necklaces, diamond-studded bracelets, custom rings—each one glimmering under the soft lighting, ready to impress the high-profile guests that would soon arrive. Alongside the jewelry, we had exclusive accessories: hand-crafted silk scarves, intricate leather bags, and my personal favorite, a limited-edition perfume line designed to embody sophistication.
I glanced at my P.A., Grace, who was speaking quietly to one of the event coordinators. Her face was focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she gestured toward the guest list. I knew she was just as on edge as I was, even though she hid it behind her usual calm exterior.
"Is everything set?" I asked, approaching her, my voice steady but with a slight edge of impatience.
Grace looked up and gave me a reassuring nod. "Everything’s on schedule. The guests should start arriving in an hour. The security team is also positioned around the entrance."
Good. I couldn’t afford any slip-ups. Not after everything.
I nodded, my gaze flicking over to the entryway where my bodyguards stood, keeping watch. They were a necessity these days. Especially after the fire... after nearly losing everything.
Focus, Christiana.
The fire still haunted me. The investigation was ongoing, and I was determined to uncover who was behind it. But today was not about that. Today was about my work, about making my mark again after being away for so long. This was the first exhibition I was holding since returning to the city, and the pressure was immense. Everyone would be watching.
I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my nerves at bay. I’d dealt with worse before. This was just another challenge.
But there was a knot of anxiety in my stomach that wouldn’t go away. Despite the calm, controlled exterior I projected, I couldn’t deny the weight of it. I’d invited top people—CEOs, designers, influencers, even some of my old business partners. This wasn’t just an exhibition. This was a statement: I’m back.
I found myself wandering toward the jewelry displays, fingers brushing over the glass. Every detail mattered. Every piece had to be perfect. I’d spent nights obsessing over the designs, and now, they were here, ready to be judged.
"You should take a moment to breathe, ma'am," Grace’s voice broke through my thoughts. She was standing beside me now, her tone soft but firm. "Everything is under control."
I smiled, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. "You know me, Grace. I don’t rest until the job’s done."
Grace raised an eyebrow. "I do know you. That’s why I’m reminding you to take a second and breathe before the guests start arriving. You’ve earned it."
I appreciated her concern, but resting wasn’t an option. Not when there was so much at stake. I walked toward the center of the hall, taking in the full view of the setup. The grandness of it all—our work, displayed for the elite to admire. My chest tightened with a strange mix of pride and fear.
The kids had been another worry. They were still adjusting, and I’d been giving them therapy to cope with everything. Their father had been around more often than I’d anticipated, and that came with its own complications. But I had to be strong for them, had to show them that no matter what happened, we would come out on top.
"Christiana," Grace said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "You’ve done it. This exhibition is going to be a success. Trust yourself."
I nodded, though a part of me still questioned if I’d done enough. The fire, the stress of being a mother while running a business, the constant pressure to stay at the top—it all weighed on me. But I couldn’t falter now. Not when I was so close.
"Thank you, Grace," I finally said, offering her a small, genuine smile. "I couldn’t have done this without you."
She returned the smile, and for a moment, I allowed myself to feel just a bit of relief. But there was still an hour to go, and I had to make sure everything was perfect. As much as I wanted to appear confident, I couldn’t deny the flicker of nervous energy running through me.
I straightened my shoulders, pulling myself together.
The show was about to begin.
…
An hour passed.
I stood near the entrance, my eyes fixed on the grand double doors of the banquet hall. I glanced at the clock again, frowning slightly. It was already past the time when the guests were supposed to start arriving. Grace moved quietly around me, her face was calm as she spoke to the event staff, but I could sense her unease. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
I tried to brush it off. They’re just late, I told myself. After all, these were top executives, fashion icons, people with schedules so packed it wouldn’t be strange for them to show up a little later than expected. But still… not a single guest?
I shifted on my feet, trying to shake off the growing discomfort. I could feel the eyes of my employees on me, subtle glances that carried more concern than words could express. Grace moved closer, holding her tablet, pretending to check something, but I could tell she was watching me from the corner of her eye.
"Everything’s fine," I muttered to myself, pacing toward one of the display cases, pretending to inspect the jewelry again. But my heart was starting to pound.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex)