Christiana’s POV
The boutique was a sanctuary of elegance, its pristine white walls designed with dazzling displays of high fashion. As I walked in, the shop’s atmosphere shifted instantly from casual to a couture runway, my bodyguards flanking me and my personal assistant, Grace, at my side. The salesgirls, dressed in sleek uniforms, were already buzzing around, eager to showcase the latest designs.
The first dress was a shimmering silver gown with a plunging neckline. I stepped out of the fitting room, the fabric flowing gracefully around me. Ethan and Emma, perched on a velvet sofa, eyed me critically.
“Wow, Mommy, you look like a princess!” Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration.
Ethan, however, scrunched up his face. “I don’t like it. It’s too shiny. Can you get something with more color?”
I laughed softly, twirling to let them get a full view. “Alright, let’s see what else we have!
A salesgirl rushed in with a rack of new dresses. “Next, we have this elegant emerald green dress. It’s perfect for an evening event. She held up a stunning gown with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt.
I slipped into the emerald dress, feeling its luxurious fabric against my skin. When I stepped out, Emma clapped her hands in delight. “This one’s my favorite, Mommy!”
Ethan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, this one’s nice. It’s not too shiny and the color’s pretty.”
We moved on to the next round of dresses–a vibrant red cocktail dress and a sleek black evening gown. I modeled each one, letting the kids give their verdicts. Their opinions, though honest and unfiltered, were a relief. At least I knew my choices weren’t being judged solely by the high fashion standards of the boutique.
As the day carried on, the boutique became filled with fabric swatches and design choices. Salesgirls hurried to and fro, bringing out garments in every conceivable style and color. My mind, however, was of stress and frustration, mostly because of the constant chatter from Ethan and Emma about their father.
Emma, in her most persuasive tone, tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, when are we going to see Daddy? We really want to visit him today.”
I puffed out a breath, unable to ignore the persistent requests. “We’ve been through this, kids. I don’t know if today’s the best day.”
Ethan chimed in, his voice full of determination. “But Mommy, you said we could see him soon. We’ve waited so long. Please, can we go today?”
I glanced at my watch, calculating the time. I was surrounded by a sea of luxury, but it was clear that no amount of designer dresses could outweigh my children’s desire to see their father. I sighed, rubbing my temples.
“Alright, fine,” I said, resigning. “We’ll go see him today. But we have to finish up here first,”
Both kids erupted into cheers, their faces lighting up with excitement. I couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, even though a part of me remained apprehensive about the reunion.
The fitting room was a flurry of activity as the salesgirls packed up the remaining garments. I made my selections, preparing to head out with Ethan and Emma in tow. Grace, my assistant, caught my eye.
“I’ll have the clothes delivered,” she said, noting my distracted look. “Where to next?”
“No worries, I’ll get them horne myself,” I replied. “We need to get ready for the visit. I’m not sure what to expect, but I want to be prepared.”
Outside, the sun was bright and harsh as we stepped out of the boutique, our arms filled with shopping bags. Ethan and Emma chattered excitedly about our planned visit to their father, their energy evident. I was just about to open the door to the car when I spotted a familiar figure across the parking lot. My heart sank. It was Bianca,
She was standing with a small entourage–her bodyguard, a personal assistant, and a few others. Her designer outfit and flawless makeup screamed celebrity, but it was the haughty expression on her face that really caught my attention. My jaw tightened. Of all people, it had to be her.
Chapter 21
I approached the car, trying to ignore her, but Bianca wasn’t having it. She strode over with an air of arrogance, her gaze fixed on me with disdain and challenge.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Christiana Davis, Bianca said, her voice dripping with condescension. “I didn’t realize you were still in town. Or should I say, I didn’t know Alex’s ex–wife could afford such expensive taste. And with those-” she sneered, pointing at Ethan and Emma, -bastard children, no less.”
The kids‘ faces fell, confusion and hurt evident. Ethan stepped forward, his small frame brimming with defiance. “That’s not nice! You don’t talk about my mom and us like that!”
Emma added, her voice trembling with anger, “Yeah! You’re just mean!”
I felt a surge of protective rage, but I tried to keep my composure. “Bianca,” I said through gritted teeth, “if you have at problem with me, you can take it up with me alone. These kids have nothing to do with it.”
Bianca’s eyes narrowed. “Keep yourself and your illegitimate children away from Alex,” she snapped. “He’s moved on. It’s about time you did too.”
I could see red. “You don’t get to dictate who’s in or out of our lives,” I said, my voice steady despite my anger. “You’re the one who caused all this mess, and now you want to play the moral authority?”
The confrontation had drawn the attention of passersby, and I could see Bianca’s frustration building. She flicked her fingers, and her bodyguards started to move forward. “Teach her a lesson,” she ordered, her voice sharp.
My bodyguards stepped in front of me, their imposing figures a solid wall between Bianca’s team and me. The tension was evident, and I
ould sense Bianca’s defeat as she saw my team’s unwavering stance. Her eyes flashed with anger, but she knew when to back down
“Fine, Bianca spat, her voice cold. This isn’t over.”
As she stormed away, her team in tow, the kids looked up at me with wide eyes. Ethan and Emma were still fuming
“Who was that, Mommy?” Ethan asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
“She’s someone close to your dad” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the lingering anger.
Emma scowled, crossing her arms. “She’s awful. I don’t like her,”
The kids continued to grumble as we got into the car, their voices echoing the disdain I felt. I started the engine, my mind racing. Bianca’s presence was a stark reminder of the mess Alex had left behind, and it was clear she wouldn’t be a mere bystander in our lives.
As we drove away, I glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Bianca’s retreating figure. The encounter had been ugly, but it had also reinforced my boldness. Whatever Bianca’s plans were, I was ready to face them.
