Chapter 15
I told myself to focus. I had a company to rebuild, a name to protect, and an empire
waiting to be reclaimed. But no matter how
much I tried, the ache inside me lingered.
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Tania’s words. The way she looked at me. The
slap I delivered. It all haunted me like a
shadow I couldn’t escape.
Still, Mateo was there.
Every morning, he’d show up at my office
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with coffee, sometimes breakfast, always
with that soft smile and steady presence.
And today, finally, I was ready to make our
announcement.
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I stood before the boardroom table, filled with
skeptical eyes and murmuring mouths. These
were the men who questioned my
competence the moment I returned. Who
whispered about needing a “strong male
partner” as if I were a lost child playing dress-
- up.
Mateo stood beside me as I addressed them.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said clearly,
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confidently. “This is Mateo Silvano, my
fiancé.”
The room stilled.
Some exchanged glances. Others folded
their arms, unimpressed.
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“I know what you’re all thinking,” I continued.
“That this is some last–minute business
stunt. That I’m using a man to secure my
spot.”
“Isn’t it?” one older board member asked
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coolly.
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I smiled, but there was steel beneath it. “No. It
isn’t. Mateo and I met long before any of this.
We’ve known each other. We’ve shared time,
life, pain. It’s not for business. It’s for love.”
Mateo gently squeezed my hand.
“But even if it were,” I added, “it doesn’t
change one thing. My name is Trina DeVere.
And legally, this company is mine. My father
passed it down to me. And once I’m married,
no board, no advisor, and no bitter gossip will
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have any grounds to challenge that.”
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I opened the portfolio in front of me, revealing
the documents signed by my father.
Proof.
The room went silent.
No one argued.
Afterward, Mateo and I drove to my father’s
estate. His smile when he saw us holding
hands was worth every ounce of pain I had
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endured these past few months.
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“So, you two finally figured it out, huh?” my
father chuckled, eyes crinkling in delight. “I’ve
been waiting for this. It’s about time.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Took a few
decades.”
“I always thought you’d choose him,” he
added, his voice softening. “But then you
chose Jackson. And I said nothing because I
wanted you to be happy. But now…” He
turned to Mateo. “Don’t screw this up.”
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Mateo grinned. “I wouldn’t dare.”
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We talked about wedding plans briefly,
mostly light–hearted jokes about colors and
cake flavors. But deep down, I knew–this
wasn’t just a marriage. It was a reclaiming. Of
myself. My identity. My voice.
That afternoon, I accompanied my father
back to his room, staying with him a while as
he dozed off for a nap. Then Mateo and I
drove to the boutique.
Time for the gown.
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It felt surreal, standing in front of a mirror with
pins, lace, and silk draped around me. I turned
this way and that, letting the fabric flow as
the designer adjusted the bodice. Mateo sat
nearby, watching me with a crooked smile like
he couldn’t believe I was real.
“This is it,” I whispered, more to myself. “This
is really happening.”
Then I heard a voice.
Shrill. Familiar. Annoying.
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“I said off–white, not eggshell. Are you blind?”
My breath caught.
I stepped out of the fitting room, adjusting
the hemline of the gown. There she was-
Donna Reid–standing in front of another
mirror, fussing over lace sleeves with a smug
look plastered on her face.
She hadn’t seen me yet.
I was about to turn away, keep it classy and
invisible–until she looked up.
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And saw me.
The smirk dropped.
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“What the hell are you doing here?” she
snapped. “Are you stalking me? Stalking
Jackson? You just can’t stay away, can you?”
I didn’t blink. “Relax, Donna. I’m not here for
trash I’ve already thrown away.”
Her face twisted. “Excuse me?”
“I mean Jackson,” I said sweetly. “He’s all
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yours. Trust me–I’m not picking up
something that’s already been used up.”
Donna’s mouth opened, fury boiling behind
her eyes. “He loves me now. He’s moved on.
We’re getting married. So get out of my face
before you ruin my wedding aura.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” I said, brushing invisible lint
off my dress. “Speaking of weddings… I’m
getting married, too.”
Donna’s expression froze. “To whom?”
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I raised a brow. “What’s it to you?”
She scoffed. “Oh, come on, Trina. Who would
want you? You’re damaged goods. A forty-
five–year–old has–been clinging to her dead
name.”
I gave her a mocking pout. “Aww, someone
sounds nervous.”
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She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m Donna Reid.
I’m successful and beautiful–and I’ve got the
man you couldn’t keep.”
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That’s when Mateo walked in.
And everything changed.
“I’m her groom,” he said, striding in with
perfect timing and his signature smile. “Nice
to see you again, Donna.”
Donna’s jaw dropped. Literally.
Her eyes flicked between us, trying to
process the power shift–and losing. Of
course, Mateo was known as the most
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eligible bachelor in the country.
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I didn’t wait for her to recover. I turned back to
the designer. “I’ll take this gown.”
“No!” Donna barked. “I saw that one first! I
already told the assistant I wanted that one.”
I smirked. “Oh? That’s fine.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I said it’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I’ll find
something better.”
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And with that, I stepped aside, pulled out my
phone, and called my butler.
“Yes, Ms. DeVere. What can I do?”
“I want to buy the boutique,” I said calmly, my
eyes never leaving Donna. “All of it. Contact
the owner. Immediately. Also… have her
banned.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Donna scoffed. “You’re bluffing. You’re not-”
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She stopped when the boutique phone rang,
and one of the staff picked it up.
A minute later, the manager appeared,
whispering something in the assistant’s ear.
The assistant turned pale, then turned to
Donna.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Reid. You’ve been… removed
from the premises. You’re no longer allowed
to shop here.”
Two security guards appeared beside her.
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“You can’t do this! I’M MARRYING JACKSON
DELA TORRE!” she shrieked as they gently
started guiding her away. “This is my dress!
You’ll regret this, Trina!”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I said, as I took Mateo’s
hand and watched her get dragged out of the
boutique, flailing and screaming. “I already
don’t.”
And with that, I laughed.
Truly, freely, for the first time in years.
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