“What’s the problem, Rayne?”
The man was confronted by that question when he arrived home. His suit was draped over his left arm, his eyes slightly narrowed. Rayne was what everyone called him at home. Outside, however, he was always called Dimitriv.
“Nothing.”
Wijaya immediately glanced over when Dimitriv answered. Then he gave a faint smirk. “I know you very well. Whenever something is bothering you, you always go through the wine in the cellar.”
Apparently, he knew Dimitriv had stopped by a pub after the meeting between their two families. He was not particularly drunk, though. Dimitriv’s face remained expressionless. He did not want to hear anything that came out of his father’s mouth. Dimitriv started walking away from Wijaya.
“A promise is still a promise, Rayne,” the middle-aged man called after him.
Dimitriv strode to the cellar in the basement to retrieve a bottle of wine. When he came out, he saw Ryland sitting on a half-meter-high low wall. The cellar door connected to a small garden behind the house.
“Want some company?” Ryland asked as he immediately took the dozen-year-old bottle of wine from him.
His younger brother walked ahead confidently, hoping Dimitriv would accept his goodwill. Instead, his older brother grew irritated. After stopping for a moment, Dimitriv quickened his pace and snatched back his bottle of wine.
“Not necessary,” he said coldly.
Ryland’s smile slowly faded into the silence of the night. He clicked his tongue, annoyed that his good intentions had been rejected so bluntly. No matter what he did, he had never been as close to Dimitriv as Raiden was.
Dimitriv locked himself in his room and immediately downed the wine without pouring it into a glass. In three months, his wedding had already been set—and even announced to the rest of the extended family. How was he supposed to breathe after this? How was he supposed to spend the rest of his life with a woman he had never loved? And yet, just as his father had said, a promise was still a promise.
Sometimes, looking tough on the outside did not mean someone was truly strong. Sometimes, they were simply afraid of being embarrassed.
Business marriages were nothing unusual among people like him. His parents had married to strengthen both families’ businesses, and he was continuing the tradition. Most of the time, women were the ones burdened for life because they had to bind themselves in unwanted marriages. Men, on the other hand, generally did not care. They could always meet someone more attractive than the wife chosen for them.
But Dimitriv was not some bastard or jerk who could move on to countless different women’s embraces. He was not like Wijaya, even though that man’s blood ran thick in his veins. Dimitriv deeply respected women because he had spent his entire life watching his mother be mistreated by his father. He wanted one woman to love for the rest of his life—to run his fingers through her hair, kiss her every morning, grow old beside her, and then die together in a tight embrace.
Harlette sat on a single sofa, watching her mother and older sister discuss the final design for one of Violette’s wedding gowns. She hated being there, but she had been forced to take part because the gown had to be designed to perfection.
“What do you think, Harlette? Should we add crystals here?” Miranti asked.
The young woman sat with her legs crossed, her back against the sofa, her gaze drifting aimlessly. Her mother’s question did not register at all.
“Harlette!” Miranti raised her voice.
“Hm?”
“Forget it.” Miranti gave up and continued discussing the dress with Violette.
Her second daughter suddenly rose from the sofa and announced, “I’m going out for a bit.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere,” Harlette answered her mother lightly.
“Forget about that. Don’t you have an appointment to meet one of our clients after this?”
“Isn’t that Kak Violette’s job?”
Miranti let out an irritated sigh. “That assignment was transferred to you. Can’t you see your sister is busy preparing for her wedding?”
Harlette’s heart burned at hearing the word wedding over and over again. She bit down hard on her lower lip to suppress her emotions. Violette immediately placed a hand over their mother’s and gave a small nod.
“She should be helping at a time this important.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I can handle it.” Violette then turned to her sister. “Go ahead. I’ll meet that client.”
A smile bloomed across Harlette’s face in an instant. She grabbed her bag and left the room happily, while her mother remained annoyed, sighing several times.
Thirty minutes from her atelier, Harlette arrived at Serena’s apartment. It could be called Pearl Circle’s headquarters whenever the group gathered. Serena was the only one available to meet her; the others were all tied up with their own work schedules.
“Want to come with me?” Harlette asked the instant the door opened a fraction.
“Oh, ghost, it’s still early.”
“Exactly why I need breakfast.”
“Come in,” Serena urged, quickly following behind Harlette. “Actually, I have some work to take care of, so I need to finish that first. If you don’t want to wait—”
“I do!” Harlette exclaimed, immediately lying down on the sofa and diving into social media to find out what Dimitriv had been up to. All she found were old posts, though, since Dimitriv did not pay much attention to the internet. His real life was far too busy.
“There’s some food in the fridge if you want it.”
Harlette shook her head adorably. “No, no. I don’t need food. I just want to look at his face.”
Serena gave a vague nod and left her best friend alone. Ever since her secret had been exposed, Harlette had become completely open about Dimitriv. Like Harlette, Serena also had a secret room inside her bedroom—a quiet space containing a white computer and several laptops. She sat down at her desk and resumed writing her novel.
Dimitriv’s veined hand moved along a row of neatly hung black suits in the black-themed walk-in closet. At a glance, they all looked the same—just black suits. But they came from different brands, each with its own level of comfort. Dimitriv was simply choosing the best one for the day.
“How handsome,” Seara praised when Dimitriv arrived in the dining room.
“Leaving together?” Wijaya asked.
“Not necessary. I have somewhere to go first.”
“All right, then,” Wijaya said, nodding toward Chef Karen as their breakfast began to be served.
As usual, breakfast was silent because Wijaya did not tolerate any sounds at the dining table besides the scrape of utensils and the occasional clink of dishes.
The gardeners went about their work that morning, trimming the ornamental plants that had grown out of control. Wijaya gave a small nod as the people in the house began leaving and getting into their respective cars. Wijaya and Ryland left together, while Seara went with her twin. The two cars pulled away from the property.
“Be careful.” Parita called out to her beloved eldest son.
Dimitriv nodded and hugged his mother with one arm. “I’m heading out.”
The black S-Class followed the other two cars, speeding toward the Senayan district for an important company event. Nearly every executive was attending, especially Dimitriv, who could not afford to miss it.
An Investor Gathering was being held in the ballroom of the 878 Hotel, which offered 478 rooms in a variety of styles. Company executives, investors, and prospective investors were all in attendance. One of the company representatives, dressed in a neat navy-blue suit, greeted the audience before more than a hundred people.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the stage lights shining on the large screen where the company’s presentation materials would appear. Every eye focused on the host, who then announced Dimitriv’s full name and invited him onto the stage.
Spontaneous applause broke through the silence. Dimitriv smiled and began speaking as Chief Financial Officer. A graph showing the increase in tourists visiting Bali during the last quarter of 2023 appeared clearly on the large screen.
“As you can see, the number of tourists increased by 19.47 percent compared with the previous month,” Dimitriv said. He also displayed a graph showing the Hotel Occupancy Rate climbing along with it. “These are promising figures, because the increase continues to rise.”
Aryasatya Group, as an accommodation provider, saw an extremely promising opportunity. Dimitriv stood calmly and confidently as he explained the company’s plan to develop one of its properties in Bali.
Dimitriv pressed the presentation remote and displayed an aerial view of the magnificent 787 Resort. A red laser pointed toward the right side of the resort. “Therefore, we plan to expand in this area and increase the number of rooms until it reaches a figure befitting the name of our resort: 787 rooms.”
At one of the investors’ tables sat a woman who had been focusing all her attention on the man at the front. As usual, she barely blinked, unwilling to miss even 0.3 seconds of him.
With her black camera, Harlette repeatedly photographed Dimitriv’s handsome figure without using the flash. His candid expressions were safely stored in the memory of her beloved camera.
“No wonder you love him so much. He’s incredibly charismatic, just like the characters in the novels I write,” Serena commented from beside Harlette.
Dimitriv came down from the stage after giving his brief presentation. Only then did Harlette blink and turn toward her best friend. “I didn’t choose wrong, did I?”
“Not at all. The only thing that’s wrong is… fate?”
Harlette curved one corner of her mouth. “Is that so? As a writer, what would you do to change fate in this situation?”
“Hm.” Serena exhaled. “Like you said yesterday, become a traitor to your family and steal that man away even if it means risking poverty. But it would be worth it to live with the man you adore.”
“Should I do that too?”
Serena chuckled. “Forget it, Harlette. That only happens in my stories. Besides, does Mr. Dimitriv even like you?”
Harlette’s face immediately soured at Serena’s brutal reality check. Dimitriv might not even know how deeply Harlette loved him.
“That’s why I’m going to make the most of these three months. I’ll tell him how I feel, even if I have to do it anonymously. And then I’ll die the day before his wedding.”
“Death is not something to joke about. Do you know what it feels like to die without peace as you leave this world?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. I forgot you’re always sensitive about death, as if you’ve died before.”
Maybe she had.
“Serena!” Harlette called excitedly, taking her hand with a hopeful expression. “Will you help me?”
The woman pulled her hand away. “You know I don’t like chaos.”
Harlette took her hand again. “Okay, not a favor—an advantageous partnership. I’ll become the lead designer for your fashion business.”
“Sure.” She accepted the offer that easily as long as it was profitable, while still staying within the bounds of peace. “But there are limits. You don’t want to destroy them, do you?”
Harlette nodded firmly.
“So you guys can’t come?” Harlette waited for their answer. “All right, then. It’ll just be the two of us.”
Harlette ended the call and fastened her seat belt.
“None of you can make it?”
She shook her head. “Morana is shooting out of town, and Madeleine is accompanying Sanja to an agency event.” Harlette looked at Serena and said, “Looks like we’re the only ones who seem unemployed. We can go anywhere without any commitments.”
“Rich and unemployed.”
“I like that description. Though I’ll probably get scolded for wandering around instead of properly working for our clients. But it doesn’t matter. As long as Mr. Dimitriv is still in this world, none of my problems mean anything.”
They went to a restaurant near the apartment. Harlette had made a reservation three days earlier. The building had three floors with a warm, comfortable atmosphere. The two women entered the elevator side by side to go to the third floor.
The elevator doors closed.
Dimitriv appeared moments later, walking with another man. They stood in front of the elevator that had just carried the two women away, pressed the button, and waited.
On the third floor, the elevator doors parted, and Harlette and Serena stepped out together.
“I’m going to the restroom for a minute,” Harlette said.
Serena nodded. She paused briefly as she shifted her high-heeled foot toward the VIP room. At that exact moment, the elevator opened, revealing Dimitriv with a man Serena did not know.
“Serena?”
“Hi, Mr. Dimitriv. You’re here too?”
“Alone?”
Serena stood frozen for two seconds. “With Harlette. She’s in the restroom, and we’re going home because…”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“The restaurant staff entered our reservation incorrectly, so we don’t have a room.”
Serena stared intently into the man’s eyes, waiting for his response. This was pure improvisation; who could have guessed Dimitriv would come here too? Dimitriv’s lips moved slightly, as though he were about to say something.
“Why don’t you join us?” Dimitriv offered, making Serena smile faintly at her success. Her brief lie had unexpectedly worked out perfectly.
The three of them sat at a square table with four chairs. Serena discreetly used her phone beneath the table to inform her best friend.
The short message reached Harlette, making her phone vibrate inside her flap bag. Harlette pulled her hand away from the hand dryer and immediately checked the message.
‘Come to VIP 3.’
Her brow furrowed. She remembered getting VIP 7 when she made the reservation yesterday. Just as she was about to reply, another message arrived.
‘Just come.’
“Why is she suddenly telling me to go there? Is Mr. Dimitriv there?” Harlette murmured instinctively.
Her feet stopped in front of the room. She glanced up to confirm the number. Her hand reflexively pressed the card against the door sensor, and of course, it was immediately rejected. She let out a sharp sigh and pulled her phone from her bag.
‘Idiot, how am I supposed to open—’
Before she could finish and send the message, the door opened from inside. Serena glanced in, and Harlette walked in as instructed, confused about why they had suddenly changed rooms. Her feet came to an abrupt stop when she saw Dimitriv sitting in one of the chairs. Her body went rigid, and she almost forgot how to breathe.
“Harlette, sit down,” Dimitriv invited.
Serena took Harlette by the hand and managed to guide her into a proper seat. Harlette looked awkward, though she tried to brush it off.
“Serena said the restaurant staff mishandled your reservation.”
“Yes!” she blurted, her voice slightly too loud. “And I never expected to end up here with…you two.” Harlette glanced at the man beside Dimitriv.
“I invited him. This is my friend, Alaric.”
The unfamiliar man nodded, and Harlette returned the gesture.
Hidden by the table, Harlette squeezed Serena’s hand nervously. She was nervous facing Dimitriv like this, even though it was not the first time. They say that when someone falls in love for life, their heart will keep pounding whenever they stand before the person they love. For an entire lifetime, until that love ends.
A waiter entered their room in a special uniform, wearing a restaurant-logo pin on his left chest. The man with the headband lowered the menus and took the orders of the four people he assumed were two couples having dinner together.
The room, now containing only the four of them, felt intensely charged.
“I watched your presentation earlier. You were amazing, Mr. Dim,” Harlette praised.
“Thank you. You always say the same thing.”
Harlette’s smile faltered. She felt a little embarrassed hearing a fact she had not realized. Did she really always praise Dimitriv like that?
“I’ll come to your place tomorrow.” Dimitriv was also unsure how to make small talk.
“For what?!” Harlette shrieked, startling him.
“For a fitting, of course.”
Harlette winced faintly. “Oh, right. I forgot you’re marrying my sister.” Behind her smile, a fresh wound had just opened, throbbing painfully.
The atmosphere gradually relaxed as the two pairs of eyes met and parted. Harlette began telling them about the fun she had on her vacation in Bali and suggested that Dimitriv build 787 Resorts throughout Bali so she would not have to struggle to find accommodations whenever she visited again. Dimitriv merely chuckled at her joke. Harlette carried the conversation while the other three became attentive listeners.
Forty-seven minutes after the food had been brought to the table, only the plates and utensils remained, along with traces of seasoning clinging to them. Harlette gently dabbed her lips with a napkin, glanced briefly at her best friend, and then turned her attention to Dimitriv.
“Thank you for tonight, Mr. Dimitriv. I’m sorry if I interrupted your meeting.”
“It’s no problem.”
“In that case, Serena and I will head home now.”
“Yes. Be careful.”
The two men watched the women leave until they disappeared beyond the door. Dimitriv turned his neck and took a sip from his glass of wine. Something strange caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to get a better look.
“You like her?” Dimitriv asked Alaric.
The man merely cleared his throat and stopped looking toward the door. “About the project plan—I’ll introduce you to Mister X.”
“I can give you her number if you want.” He was referring to one of the women who had just left.
“Dim,” Alaric exclaimed, “stop talking nonsense, or I won’t help you at all.”
Dimitriv burst out laughing. “All right, all right. I was only joking.”
When they arrived at Serena’s apartment, Harlette hugged her best friend so tightly she nearly squeezed the life out of her. She had suddenly become the happiest person on earth. Harlette released her and grabbed both of her friend’s shoulders.
“How did you come up with such a brilliant idea? Thank goodness those three people couldn’t make it, so I got to have dinner with Mr. Dimitriv.”
“Let go, you’re so extra.”
That was not the end of it. Harlette leaped onto the sofa and acted like a little girl who had just received a rare toy, completely ruining the elegant image she had built in front of so many people. Serena handed her a can of soda, worried Harlette’s throat would dry out since she still had not stopped expressing her happiness after leaving the room.
Harlette gazed at the newest photo she had taken yesterday. Both corners of her lips lifted into a perfect smile. After she was satisfied admiring Dimitriv’s photos, she left the room and headed downstairs with a black bag in hand.
“Mom, I’m leaving now.”
“Harlette, go to the café your sister is sending you to and discuss the dress with the client,” Miranti said, stopping Harlette in her tracks. She lifted her gaze from the magazine she had been reading and looked at her daughter. “She’s pretty busy, but the café is near her office. Go, because this is a special client.”
“Isn’t that client being handled by Kak Violette too?”
“Your sister has to deal with her wedding.”
“But, Mom—”
Miranti gave Harlette a sharp look when she refused. She was just about to agree when her older sister arrived first.
“I’ll handle that client.” Violette looked at their mother. “She only wants me to handle her.”
“But, Vio, you’ll be busy enough with your own wedding.”
Violette blinked confidently. “Don’t worry, Mom. I can handle everything.” Violette then turned toward Harlette. “In exchange, you can help me take care of Dimitriv’s suit.”
“Violette!” Miranti shouted, clearly disagreeing.
Harlette fell silent for a moment, unable to believe what she had heard. But Violette repeated herself, emphasizing the request, and handed all of Dimitriv’s needs over to Harlette. A little nervous, Harlette agreed.
Once inside the car, she stared blankly for a moment. Was this exciting because she would get to interact closely with the man she adored? Or would it only leave her wounded in the end, faced with the fact that she had helped ensure the man of her dreams married someone else?
Violette’s car horn brought Harlette back to reality. The bluish-purple car left the driveway. Violette followed one minute later, but the two cars headed in different directions.
Throughout the day at work, Harlette spent more time daydreaming than working. Once again, she was unsure whether to feel happy or annoyed. Her sketchbook had been lying open for ages, its pages still blank. Her thoughts were consumed by Dimitriv, making her neglect the dress she was supposed to design for her best friend Morana to wear to the upcoming film’s premiere gala.
A faint chime pulled Harlette’s attention away. It was only a message from Morana asking about the design for her dress. Leaning back in her chair, Harlette raised the phone level with her face and simply stared at it. Not long afterward, someone knocked on the glass door, revealing Dimitriv’s sharp eyes and face beyond it.
Harlette immediately rose from her chair and opened the door, even though Dimitriv could have done it himself.
“Hello, Mr. Dimitriv.”
“Sorry I’m a little late. Something came up.”
“No problem.”
Dimitriv made his way to the sofa while Harlette went to her desk to retrieve a gray tablet. She sat across from him, fiddled with the tablet for a moment, and then showed him something.
Dimitriv’s index finger swiped through several wedding-suit designs from the couture house. While he focused on his task, Harlette busied herself admiring him in secret. It would arouse suspicion, but she was not afraid in the slightest.
Dimitriv’s finger stopped repeating the same motion when his left chest gave a small flutter. He immediately took out his phone, glanced at it, and put it away again.
Dimitriv placed the tablet on the table, displaying a design he thought suited him. “How about we take your measurements now?” He seemed to be in a hurry after reading the message.
The woman in front of him nodded.
Harlette squeezed the small measuring tape in her hand as Dimitriv stepped toward her. Their bodies were now only a few inches apart. Harlette hoped Dimitriv could not hear the thunder pounding behind her ribs.
“I’ll start taking your measurements,” she said, her voice trembling faintly.
“Hm.”
Harlette pulled the measuring tape between both hands. The number beside her thumb showed the width of Dimitriv’s shoulders. Then she lowered it to measure his chest. She quickly stepped back to record the measurement on paper. It was so difficult to shake off her nervousness.
Harlette took a quiet breath. She had to prepare herself for the next step: wrapping her arms around Dimitriv’s body to measure his waist. Her heartbeats raced each other, especially when she accidentally looked up and met his gaze. Harlette’s body froze for a moment. When she realized it, she stepped back and nearly slipped. Fortunately, Dimitriv caught her.
“Sorry.”
“When are you going to marry Noah?” Dimitriv asked. It was so sudden that Harlette immediately grew irritated.
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Why? Is there someone you love?”
Harlette caught her breath. “There is, but he’s going to belong to someone else,” she said after summoning all her strength.
The man gave a crooked smile. “Don’t you want to steal him away first?”
Harlette’s pupils instantly widened at the words that had slipped from Dimitriv’s mouth. “Who gave you permission to suggest something that stupid?”
“I did.”
Harlette had no idea why Dimitriv had suddenly asked her that. Maybe he had begun to take Raiden’s words to heart. Or…maybe he was only playing around.