CH 4

Elena seethed from her spot across the room, her jaw clenched as she watched Ivelle glide across the floor in Stefan’s arms. Her fingers gripped her glass tightly, her frustration growing with every turn of the dance.

When the music finally stopped, Stefan smiled at Ivelle in a way that made her uncomfortable. Instead of returning it, she took a step back, nodding politely.

"Thank you," she muttered quietly.

Stefan’s phone buzzed, and after a quick glance at the screen, he looked back at her. "I’m sorry, Ivelle. I have to leave. Business."

"Of course. Take care,"

Ivelle exhaled, relief washing over her as Stefan turned to leave. "You've done an excellent job with this wedding," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Thank you, Mr..." She paused, meeting his gaze, and smiled mischievously. "Stefan." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and approval. With a brief nod, he turned and walked away, his long strides devouring the distance. The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving Ivelle feeling both relieved and curious.

Ivelle sat down after he left, her thoughts racing. The way he looked at her just now, as if there was something more than just business between them, unsettled her. But why would Stefan De Luca — a man with wealth, power, and options — be interested in someone like her? She barely had time to get her life in order, let alone entertain the idea of a romantic entanglement. Not to mention the inevitable backlash from Elena who was obsessed with Stefan.

Elena’s eyes never left Ivelle as she sat there, a slow smirk forming on her lips. She would have her moment with Stefan — soon enough. And Ivelle, no matter how lucky she thought she was, wouldn’t stand in her way for long.

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Ivelle’s eyes were closed when she felt warm hands cover them.

“Liam? Is that you?” she guessed, hearing him chuckle mischievously before he tousled her hair.

She held up a finger, pretending to be angry. “You’re lucky it’s your wedding day.”

“Thank you, Ivelle. It’s everything I dreamed of,” Nami said, pulling her into a warm hug.

“You’re welcome, Nami.”

“And I’m sorry about the whole Arden thing. I know how much it must have—”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Really. Let’s not talk about it,” Ivelle cut in, her voice a little too quick, too practiced.

Liam’s gaze flickered to the sash draped across her chest. She brushed a hand through her curls, trying to distract herself.

“So, Bride-to-Be, huh? Aren’t you a little young for this?” he teased, half-joking, half-curious.

“She’s twenty-seven, you idiot,” Nami scolded, playfully smacking his arm while Ivelle laughed at their antics, trying to ignore the pit growing in her stomach.

“Twenty-seven and still without a clear direction, huh?” A new voice joined the conversation. The trio turned to see Ivelle’s aunt, Clara, making her way toward them.

“Please, Auntie, not here,” Ivelle replied with a tight smile, her voice strained.

“Time waits for no one, Ivelle. Look at you, mingling with people who actually have their lives together,” Nami’s mother, Martina, said as she appeared beside Clara, the smile on her face tight, judgmental.

“Mother!” Nami glared at her, her voice sharp with embarrassment.

“Nami, your mother’s right,” Martina continued, undeterred. Her gaze zeroed in on Ivelle. “At your age, who’s going to want to marry you? Especially when your pride lies in ‘matching souls,’ as you call it. Is that even a real job?”

Ivelle’s jaw clenched as she forced a smile. “I don’t care what you think of my career. But spare me your little lecture tonight.”

“She’s still young, Mrs. Hudson,” Liam chimed in, trying to break the rising tension. “She’s got time. Besides, Ivelle’s an excellent matchmaker.”

“She is! Just look at this gorgeous wedding. It wouldn’t have happened without her,” Nami added quickly, her voice almost desperate.

Ivelle leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning the ballroom as she let the conversation continue around her. She barely registered it anymore—she was used to this kind of talk.

“Ivelle, I saw you dancing with—”

“He’s my boss. That’s all,” Ivelle said curtly, cutting off Nami before she could finish her sentence.

“For now,” Liam muttered under his breath.

“Did you say something, Liam?” Martina asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And who are you to question me?” Liam shot back, folding his arms across his chest.

“Mr. Smith, just because you’ve married my daughter doesn’t mean you can speak to me in that tone—”

“Oh, it absolutely does,” Liam interrupted, smirking. “Especially when I could easily pull out funding for your little charity project.”

Martina’s face reddened, her smile strained as she threw Nami a look. Nami sighed, leaning in to whisper, “Liam, don’t. Please. My mother’s just… protective.”

Ivelle suppressed a laugh, her lips twitching with amusement. ‘Protective, my foot,’ she thought.

Clara, still lingering beside her, finally spoke again. “Martina, let’s not get worked up over nothing. He’s just her boss, after all.”

“Maybe,” Martina said, her voice suddenly sharp again, “but have you heard? Elena’s about to be promoted to vice president at the company.”

Ivelle barely managed to hide her disinterest. “Good for her.”

“Is that a threat, Ivelle?” Martina’s eyes narrowed.

Ivelle’s grip tightened around her wine glass, the comment striking deeper than she expected. Memories of her parents, the business, and the tragedy that followed swirled inside her head. The bitterness left an ache in her chest, but she masked it with a cold smile.

“That’s enough, Mother,” Nami quickly stepped in, pulling her mother away before the conversation could escalate further.

Clara lingered behind for a moment longer, her eyes raking over Ivelle’s appearance. “We’ll talk later, Ivelle. And that sash? Ridiculous.” She turned on her heel and left, leaving Ivelle seething in silence.

“Your aunt is a piece of work,” Liam muttered, his jaw tight.

“Tell me about it,” Ivelle replied, rubbing her temples.

“How do you even put up with her? If she were my aunt, I would’ve tossed her out years ago,” Liam grumbled, folding his arms as if he could still feel Clara’s cold presence.

“She takes care of me, Liam. She’s not always like this,” Ivelle replied softly, though even she didn’t quite believe it. “But her friend… well, that’s a different story.”

Liam nodded but didn’t press the matter. “So, what possessed you to wear that sash?”

Ivelle laughed lightly, glancing down at the bold ‘Bride-to-Be’ sash across her chest. “Blame the wine, big brother.”

“About earlier—on the dance floor—”

“I’m fine, Liam. Really. Just stop apologizing before I lose my mind,” Ivelle said, rolling her eyes.

“I love you, you know that?” Liam said, patting her head affectionately.

“And you love me more, right?” Nami interrupted, returning to their side with a playful smile.

“Of course I do,” Liam replied, kissing her on the cheek. “But your mother? She’s exhausting.”

“Please, no PDA,” Ivelle groaned, laughing as she waved them off.

Nami smiled at her, a hint of concern in her eyes. “Don’t let her get to you, okay? You’ve done enough. She's just pained about the engagement thing. She had so many things planned already."

“Stop worrying about me and go enjoy your wedding. I’m fine,” Ivelle insisted, shooing them away.

“You better have fun too!” Nami called over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd with Liam.

Ivelle leaned back, letting the music and laughter wash over her, trying to push the lingering tension aside. But she barely had a moment to herself before Briana and Celine approached, looking mischievous.

“Your job here is done, girl! Time to dance!” Celine slurred, clearly tipsy.

“No thanks, Celine. I’m good,” Ivelle replied, forcing a smile.

“We saw you dancing with Mr. De Luca,” Celine chimed in, her eyes gleaming. “Is it what we think it is?”

“You two need to sober up,” Ivelle laughed, shaking her head.

The night wore on, with the people partying. Elena, dressed in a stunning lavender gown, whispered something to the MC. A moment later, the mic crackled as he tapped it for attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special announcement!” the MC's voice boomed over the speakers.

The crowd quieted, and Elena’s smile widened as she stepped forward, taking the mic in hand. Her eyes swept over the room, finally landing on Ivelle. The smug smile on her face made Ivelle’s stomach drop.

“I’d like to congratulate someone very dear to this family,” Elena began, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “A woman of many talents, who I think is about to make some very big changes in her life.”

Ivelle’s heart raced, her mind spinning with possibilities. What was Elena up to?

Elena’s gaze stayed locked on her as she continued, “Tonight’s not just about Nami and Liam. There’s something else... something more... that’s about to be revealed.”