Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Christians’s POV, Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

I stood frozen in place, my heart nearly stopping as the grand double doors of the banquet hall swung open, revealing a stream of luxurious cars pulling up outside. The kind of cars that screamed old money and power, each with their own fleet of security detail.

1 blinked in disbelief as one by one, men and women in finely tailored suits and gowns stepped out. These weren’t just ordinary guests, these were the top elite, the kind of people you saw in Forbes or the evening news, shaking hands with world leaders or running multi–billion–dollar companies.

What_what was happening?

“Christiana,” Grace whispered urgently at my side, tugging at my arm as if she could sense the sheer panic threatening to take over my mind. “That’s Alexander Graham, the oil magnate, and behind him–oh my God, that’s Senator Martinez! I’ve only ever seen her in interviews. How did they

1 swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. Senator Martinez Alexander Graham? What on earth were they doing here? And why were they flooding into my exhibition?

For a second, I couldn’t move. I stood there, paralyzed by the sight of these high–profile guests who hadn’t been on my list. The same list that, just an hour ago, seemed to have been stolen night from under my nose. And now now it felt like the universe was playing some twisted joke on me. But this? This was no joke.

Ma’am Christiana, we need to move,” Grace urged again, her tone gentle but firm, pulling the out of my daze. “They’re here to see you. You’ve got this.”

I nodded, pulling myself together. Grace was right. These people were here, and they weren’t just any guests–they were the kind of clientele that could change everything for my business. Istraightened my posture, smoothed down the front of my dress, and took a deep breath. Professional. Calm. In control

As we walked toward them, Grace leaned closer and whispered. That’s Evelyn Starling, the top investor in tech. Her company just closed a deal with the government last month. And that man over there? That’s Marco Lopez, the real estate mogul

I glanced at the sleek, silver–haired man Grace had pointed out and felt my stomach do a flip. These were not the kinds of people who just showed up to random exhibitions. Someone had invited them. But who? And how did they know to come here? My mind flashed to Alex, but I shook it off. There was no time to wonder. Right now, I had to act.

I smiled, stepping forward to greet Senator Martinez as if I wasnt inwardly unraveling. “Senator, what a pleasure to have you here,” I said, keeping my voice smooth and confident I’m honored by your presence.”

The senator smiled back, her eyes sharp and appraising as she shook my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about your work, Christiana. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

The moment her hand touched mine, I felt a surge of pride and relief rush through me. This was it–twasn’t going to let some petty sabotage steal this moment from me.

“Please, allow me to show you some of our finest pieces,” I said, gesturing to the collection of jewelry displayed elegantly under the glass cases. “Each one is handcrafted, using only the finest materials.”

As I moved from case to case, explaining the intricate designs, I saw their faces light up with interest. They asked questions about the inspiration behind the pieces, about the craftsmanship and the artisans I employed. My nerves started to settle, and a strange calm washed over me. This was my work, my passion, and for the first time today, it felt like I had control

turned to Evelyn Starling, who was eyeing a necklace designed with diamonds and sapphires. “This one was inspired by the Renaissance era. I explained. “It’s meant to capture the balance of strength and elegance,

18:06 Fr, UCT 18

who’s got money to spend–invite them to the exhibition at Parkside. Don’t mention Christiana or the situation. Just make sound exclusive.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”

I ended the call and pocketed my phone, my jaw tight with determination. My mind was already moving to the next step. Christiana didn’t need to know what was going on behind the scenes, not yet. This was my way of helping her, even if she didn’t want it.

As I walked back toward my car, my thoughts raced. Wilkes thought he could outmaneuver me, but he didn’t realize who he was up against. I wasn’t some second–rate businessman. I had built an empire, and I knew how to wield power when necessary. The people I was calling–these weren’t just casual acquaintances. These were some of the most powerful and influential figures in the country.

By the time they started arriving at Parkside, Wilkes‘ little stunt would be a distant memory. Christiana’s exhibition was going to be the talk of the city by the end of the night.

I could already feel the satisfaction creeping in, but I pushed it aside. There was still work to do.

I made a few more calls, keeping my tone steady and professional, leaning on my reputation to draw them in without revealing too much. My words were carefully chosen, the perfect balance of intrigue and authority. No one questioned me. They didn’t need to know the details; they just trusted that if I said something was worth their time, it was,

With each call, I could feel the weight of the situation lifting, my plan falling into place.

As I wrapped up the final call, I leaned against my car, looking back toward the banquet hall. Christiana was inside, probably still trying to figure out what went wrong. She didn’t know I was handling it, and for now, that was how it needed to be.

I’d tell her eventually. Maybe.

But right now, this wasn’t about recognition or proving anything to her. This was about fixing the damage that had been done and showing her–showing everyone–that no one messed with Christiana or what was hers. Not without facing me.

I slid back into the driver’s seat, a satisfied

tugging at the corne

r of my lips. The wheels were already in motion, and soon, Christiana would have the audience she deserved.