Mariana bent down to pick up the bills.
Not because she needed them, but because she didn’t want them to stain the pristine marble.
She carefully placed them on the edge of the trash can and said calmly,
“You should keep them. That money… you’re going to need it.”
Alejandro froze for a second.
There was no resentment in her tone.
Nor was there any pleading.
That calmness… unsettled him more than any reproach.
“Are you still acting so self-important?” Alejandro growled, turning to Camila. “See? Poor, but full of pride.”
Camila let out a mocking laugh and clung tighter to Alejandro’s arm, looking Mariana up and down with disdain.
At that moment, a group of men in black suits entered the lobby.
At the front was a gray-haired man with a commanding presence and a respectable gaze, followed by executives and a press team.
The mall manager bowed deeply:
“Mrs. Mariana, everything is ready. The presentation will begin in three minutes.”
The entire lobby fell silent.
Alejandro paled.
“Mrs. Mariana?” His voice was choked, as if someone were squeezing his throat.
Mariana nodded slightly.
She placed the cloth on the cleaning cart.
She calmly removed her gloves.
An assistant immediately approached and draped an elegant white blazer over her shoulders.
In a matter of seconds, the “cleaning attendant” was gone.
Now another woman stood before Alejandro:
Her hair was loose, her posture straight, her gaze deep and cold.
The gray-haired man stepped forward and announced in a clear voice:
“It is an honor to introduce you to Mrs. Mariana Ortega, founder of the ‘Phoenix of Fire’ brand and principal investor in this exclusive collection launching tonight.”
Alejandro took a step back, completely distraught.
The red dress with rubies behind Mariana—the same one he had scorned—bore his name on it.
Mariana turned to face him.
And smiled.
But it was no longer the fragile smile of the woman from seven years ago.
“Seven years ago you said I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“A few minutes ago you said I could never touch this dress.”
She raised her hand. The staff opened the display case.
Mariana touched the red fabric with grace.
The lights made the lobby seem to be ablaze.
“What a shame…” she whispered. “Because the one who no longer has the right to touch any of this… is you.”
At that moment, Alejandro’s phone began to vibrate incessantly.
Message from his secretary:
“Sir, the strategic partner has just withdrawn the entire investment. They’ve signed an exclusive contract with… Ms. Mariana Ortega.”
Before he could react, Camila abruptly released his arm.
“Weren’t you supposed to be vice president? Was it all a lie?”
She turned and left, her heels clicking like hammer blows on Alejandro’s shattered pride.
Mariana walked past him.
She didn’t look at him.
She only left a phrase hanging in the air, soft as the wind:
“Thank you… for letting go of me that day.”
Alejandro stood motionless in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by luxury, flashes, and whispers, trapped in a reality he never imagined he would face.
