Chapter four (4)

THE GALA

The day of the gala finally arrived, and all of Q City buzzed with anticipation. The event wasn't just another elite gathering—it was the talk of the town, primarily because of the expected appearance of Mr. Christian Stone and his mysterious wife. Speculation ran wild. Who was the woman who had captured the heart of the city's most eligible bachelor? It was a monumental event, not just for the wealthy and influential but for everyone curious about the enigmatic couple.

The gala was strictly by invitation, meant only for the nobles and elites of society. Agatha and Anita were neither, but thanks to Racheal's influence, they had managed to secure invitations. It was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.

Agatha stood in front of her mirror, examining her reflection. Her purple, sleeveless silk gown draped elegantly over her figure, revealing a tasteful amount of cleavage and accentuating her perfect, slim frame. Her light brown hair cascaded in soft curls, and her silver heels shimmered, complementing her silver-colored eyes. She hardly dressed up, but when she did, she never failed to turn heads. Despite her initial doubts when her aunt had picked the outfit, she couldn't help but admire how stunning she looked.

A thought struck her—Anita had been getting ready for over three hours in the other room. Her aunt had been waiting patiently in the sitting room. Agatha decided to call out to her friend.

"Girlfriend, you look beautiful! Let's get going, or we'll be late!"

Anita's voice floated back, "Not as beautiful as you, babe. And besides, we're already late. What's worth doing is worth doing well. I'll be out in ten minutes."

Agatha chuckled. "Alright then." She moved to meet Racheal, who was heading down the hallway.

Racheal's eyes widened as she took in Agatha's appearance. "Oh, Agatha dear, you look so gorgeous! We have to leave right now. Where is Anita?"

"She'll be out soon. Is everything okay, Aunty? Why do we need to leave in such a hurry?"

Racheal's expression tightened. "We need to get there before Mr. Christian arrives."

"Why? Isn't he just another guest like everyone else?"

Racheal's lips pressed into a thin line. "When we get there, you'll understand."

Before Agatha could probe further, Anita finally emerged, looking as majestic as ever. Her long blonde hair framed her face, and her red silk gown paired with silver heels completed the look. She was a vision, though Agatha undeniably stood out more.

"Girlfriend, if beauty were a crime, you'd rot in—"

"Then you'd be dead by now," Anita quipped, flashing a playful grin.

Racheal, though visibly agitated, couldn't help but smile. "You both look gorgeous, but we really need to go."

She snatched her purse from the couch and practically dashed out the door. The girls followed, excitement and curiosity mixing in the air. A sleek limousine awaited them, and as they settled in, Racheal instructed the driver, "Drive as fast as you can."

Anita and Agatha exchanged puzzled glances but decided to enjoy the ride, their earlier worries fading under the allure of the grand event ahead.

At the Gala

Upon arrival, the scene was breathtaking. Fleet after fleet of luxurious cars lined the entrance, and the venue itself glowed with opulence.

"I wonder if they don't know the way to the parking lot," Anita whispered, her sarcasm intact even amidst the extravagance.

They were about to enter the hall when Racheal pulled Agatha aside.

"Anita, go ahead. We'll join you shortly," Racheal said.

Agatha watched Anita disappear into the bustling crowd before turning to her aunt.

"Agatha, I made a terrible decision, and I hope you'll forgive me when you find out. I want you to know that I will always love you, even if you end up hating me."

Agatha's brows knitted in confusion. "Aunty, what do you mean? I'll always forgive you, no matter what."

Racheal pulled her into a tight hug. It was reminiscent of the way Agatha's mother had hugged her before she died—warm yet filled with an unspoken farewell.

Before Agatha could ask more, a deep, commanding voice cut through the air.

"Why are you late on our first appearance?"

Agatha turned and found herself face-to-face with none other than Christian Stone. Her breath hitched. His chiseled jawline, piercing blue eyes, and perfectly styled dark hair made him appear almost unreal. His very presence demanded attention, and Agatha felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet.

"Wait, was he talking to me?"

Before she could process, Christian moved closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and guiding her toward the ballroom. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"Keep cool. People are watching," he whispered.

As they entered the ballroom, a hush fell over the crowd. Every gaze turned to them, and Agatha felt the weight of their scrutiny. She noticed the entourage following them but couldn't focus on anything except the surreal situation unfolding around her.

The master of ceremonies stepped forward, his voice echoing through the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Christian Edward Stone!"

Applause filled the room, but Agatha's world spun. Mrs. Christian Stone?

"This is a mistake," she whispered to Christian, panic seeping into her voice.

He led her to a corner, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what's happening, but I am not your wife! I might look like her, but this is a terrible misunderstanding."

Christian's eyes narrowed. "Ms. Agatha Desmond Newman—isn't that your name?"

Her stomach dropped. "Yes, but—"

"We were married a week ago. You signed the marriage contract and certificate, did you not?"

"No! I never met you before today. How could I sign something I know nothing about?"

Before Christian could respond, Agatha's father approached, a glass of champagne in hand, Racheal by his side. Anita trailed behind, confusion etched on her face.

"Yes, you did sign the marriage certificate, Mrs. Christian," her father said coldly.

"What are you talking about?" Agatha turned to Racheal, hoping for a denial.

But Racheal couldn't meet her gaze.

Her father's voice was harsh. "I couldn't let you ruin everything with your childish vow to your mother. I needed someone to secure my business