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   Countless hours; time, sweat, blood and tears went into planning this gala. Not from him, of course. It was the people under him who did whatever he told them to do that had suffered for this. His little worker bees; mindless, sardonic, and full of themselves as much as he was. They could take this to their egos and continue to spew whatever narcissistic jargon that had filled their tiny, little pea-brains. Nothing but rocks in there, he thought.Â
âSr. Guerra,â rang a voice from behind him, earning a quick turn of his head matched with a dazzling toothy grin. His event coordinator, Raul, had all the right intentions for his art, but he was still too stupid to realize he was barking up the wrong tree. He thought back to the night he went to check on the progress and was met with an intoxicated thrust of wine, and way-too-close-for-comfort conversation. He had only been lucky that once that Roman didnât retaliate.
Still, he had to acknowledge all of the planning had gone seamlessly and it reflected on how well put-together this event had portrayed itself to be. How put-together he wanted to appear. He had still been dealing with his third divorce, custody battles and the talks of a new sister company that would raise in Dubai. He was beyond stressed, but nights like these were what he lived for. He would rub elbows with prospective buyers and promote his legacy while disguising this all for the greater good.
Her eyes were on him and he met them with the same ferocity that a cat might show a mouse. He excused his impoliteness, taking a leave of quick absence to welcome his newest guests. Emerald hues dipped into whiskey brown, trailing towards the uninvited guest he once left for dead. A short stop on his chest as he was greeted by Emiliaâs slender hand, a cautious look aimed up at him. Wordless comfort. Emiliaâs eyes were on Nevaeh, cold and piercing. Replacing Romanâs stride, she continued on towards her, followed by two more bodyguards on her side.
âNevaeh Sanford,â she sang, tucking her hands together mid-waist. âBeautiful dress. Although,â she tilted her head ever so slightly. âWe werenât expecting youâ so soon.â Given the circumstances, she held her tongue. Lest she embarrass another femme-fatale in front of onlookers. Offering her hand, she leaned in closer to her ear as if to give her a hug. âHeâll kill you.â
.
ââYou could pretend youâve missed my company, Emilia.ââ Nevaeh rertorted when the blonde approached, sheâd met her a few times once upon a time, someone that Roman had always held such high regard for, or atleast as much as he was capable of. Maybe sheâd grown bitter over time, remembering a man that sheâd at least seen hope for in the future. Somewhere along the way he stopped trusting, and she left with hopes of a brighter future. Had she been selfish? Yes. But she didnât regret her decisions, even if the pain of losing him had been far grander than sheâd ever let anyone know.Â
Sheâd resulted to the lonely life of con artistrey, sheâd learnt a lot and still continued to learn.Â
ââ ---Â Emilia, how longs it been? Not long enough, Iâm keenly aware.ââ Nevaeh greeted in return, her own expression a picture of fierce wrath, leveled orbs of fury burning brightly at the approach. Sheâd always liked the woman before her, held a respect for her that sheâd since forgotten in the world where she was but a shadow. However, that tone an snark had her back stiffening. Had times really changed so much?Â
ââTell your boss that Iâm providing clients a service. Iâm working --- Iâll be out of his hair by the end of the night. Thereâs no need for drama, unless he wants me to cause a scene right here, in front of all his esteemed guests?ââ Her tone mocking, taking the time to side step the woman so she was staring directly at Roman, lifting her hand to her mouth to signal a drink, telling him to meet her at the bar. Sheâd never done deals with his people, that had never been the way.
And she certianly wasnât starting now. Thereâd been a time where theyâd respected one another, or so, at least she thought they had. If they were in the same circle, they might have to learn to co-exsist, and she was done tip-toeing after all these years. They were not children, grown adults who needed to learn when to let bygones by bygones.Â
ââTell him itâs my last trip to New York for some time, so itâs tonight or never.ââÂ
Nevaeh took no time to turn sauntering off to the bar, throwing a glance over her shoulder to find Roman, eyes like a snake and a smile as treacherous as a demon. Thereâd always been something about her that spouted innocent but dosed her with fear. She was a con artist for a reason, a master visonary for black market art. But she was also a girl whoâd once loved a man who she soon realised would never really love her back.Â
Romance Guerra had been the man that had filled the hole that Luthor left.Â
And he hated her more than life itself.Â














