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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Yasmine POV

It was an early Friday morning, and I planned to stay in. I could hear Matt getting ready in his room while Mark had already left for an audition—he's chasing his dream of joining one of the biggest rock bands in the state.

I'd just finished setting the breakfast table when Matt came out in a crisp Armani suit.

"Wow, Yazz, you don't have to do this," he said, surprised.

"I want to. Besides, it's nothing much," I smiled.

Nothing beats an English breakfast in the morning, even though Nathan always mocked me for the calories—borderline body-shaming me. My body is fuller, curvy, with a trim waist—nothing like Nathan's obsession with tall, skinny model types.

"Yes, I'm attending a fundraising gala tonight," Matt said between sips of juice. "Come with me. It's mostly networking—you know, meeting important people. You can't stay single forever, especially after realizing that jerk didn't value you."

I chuckled softly. "All right, I'll come."

He leaned down, kissed my cheek, and hurried out. After clearing up, I called my lawyer.

"Nathan and I are done, Lia," I explained. "I need my share of the condo. Either he sells or pays me out. I need you to handle it."

"Of course," Lia assured. "Don't worry, I'll sort it. And thank God you listened when I told you not to open a joint account with him."

"Yeah," I sighed, relieved.

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Luca POV

The meeting with Fallon Inc. was dragging on longer than I wanted. Still, it had to be done. Fallon was one of my clean fronts—Damian La Rosa, my cousin, managed it on paper.

"After three months, we should be done laundering the last of it," Damian said, flipping through documents.

"How much left?" I asked.

"Six hundred and fifty million."

I leaned back. "Four hundred through Fallon. The other two-fifty via the casinos."

He nodded, satisfied. That was enough business for the day.

I had somewhere else to be tonight.

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Yasmine POV

By seven-thirty, I was dressed—a velvet red wrap dress skimming mid-thigh, gold strappy heels, and a matching clutch. Matt sent a driver who whisked me to the gala hotel, where he was already waiting.

"Wow, you look stunning," he whistled.

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and chatter—politicians, businessmen, actors, the works. At our table sat familiar faces: partners from a top law firm, Damian La Rosa of Fallon Inc., and a Hollywood actress glued to his side.

Matt leaned close. "Mind if I donate some of your paintings tonight?"

"Go ahead."

A waiter handed us champagne, and I urged him to go mingle. "Don't stay stuck with me. The chairwoman of Stanbic is here—don't miss your shot."

"You're a darling," he grinned, kissing my cheek before slipping away.

I wandered onto the balcony, gazing at the glowing city below.

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Luca POV

The balcony was meant to be quiet—until I noticed her. A dark-haired woman in a velvet dress, curves catching the moonlight. She thought she was alone.

"Who is this nymph who's stolen my view tonight?" I said.

She turned—and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. Stunning. "Luca Rossi," I introduced, offering my hand.

"Yasmine Fernandez," she replied, smiling as she shook it.

"The artist?"

"Yes."

"I own most of your collections," I admitted.

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm honored."

I offered her my arm; she took it. We walked back together—just as the MC's voice boomed.

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Yasmine POV

"Now, the last lady standing will volunteer for three dinner dates!" the MC announced.

Suddenly, every woman scrambled to sit—except me. My stomach dropped.

"No—we have our volunteer!" the MC cheered, beckoning me forward.

I glanced at Luca.

"You don't have to," he said quietly.

"It'd be cowardly to back out. You can always bid on me," I teased, patting his arm before walking away.

On my way up, Matt intercepted. "Yazz, you don't have to do this."

"It's fine—it's just a dinner date, in public. Relax."

I climbed the stage, nerves fluttering. Bidders raised their paddles.

"Eight-fifty."

"One million."

"Two million."

Then, Luca's voice cut through the noise.

"Ten million."

The ballroom froze. My knees nearly buckled.

"Sold!" the MC declared. "Congratulations, Mr. Rossi!"

Matt reached me as I st

epped down. "Ten million dollars—for a date?" he muttered in disbelief.

I only shrugged, still dazed.

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