After breakfast, Crescentia was dropped off at the hospital by one of Damian's chauffeurs. She immediately paid for Noella's medical bills and finally, her shoulders eased. She'd wanted to wait, but doctor Nathan informed her the surgery was going to take time.
Crescentia decided to go to Clara's house and inform the latter of what had happened.
Clara had been shocked that the client was Damian but the shock was replaced by a dumbfounded look as soon as Crescentia told her he wanted her to be his fake girlfriend.
"You're fake dating Damian Lorenzo?" She shrieked.
"Yes, just for one night," Crescentia responded, closing her ears for a brief second.
Clara looked skeptical. "Are you sure about this? Nothing is ever that simple when it comes to the Lorenzo family."
A shiver ran down Crescentia's spine. She'd googled his name on the internet, and he turned out to be from a prestigious family, explaining why he was so rich. His father held a political position but she didn't bother venturing far into it. But no rich family was simple, judging since she came from one.
"It's only for one night, and he's willing to pay for my time. With the money, I can rent an apartment and continue to live my life," Crescentia explained.
Clara could only stare at her and sigh. She couldn't deny what Crescentia said was true—the money was a lot. It was supposed to be a one night hookup, now things were starting to stretch. She couldn't help but have this feeling something bad was going to happen if Crescentia got too close with Damian.
Clara was about to say something but then Crescentia's phone buzzed with a notification.
Crescentia stared at the text she just got from her uncle, Magnus.
'Your parents' funeral is in three days. You should be there.'
Crescentia stared at the message, a bitter laugh bubbling up her throat. Now he wanted her there? Now, after stealing everything from her?
Clara took a peep, and clenched her fist.
"That uncle of yours is starting to make my blood boil," she commented.
**
The day of the family dinner arrived, and Crescentia found herself fidgeting. No matter how much she had mentally prepared herself, it was clear that it hadn't been enough.
Earlier that day, she had checked in on Noella, who still hadn't woken up from her surgery. Doctor Nathan reassured her that there was nothing to be worried about—Noella was out of danger and, once she recovered, she could be taken home. That good news should have been enough to elevate her mood, but her mind kept circling back to the family dinner.
A sharp honk from outside made her flinch.
"He's here," Clara announced, dabbing more blush onto Crescentia's cheeks. "There, I'm done. You got this."
Crescentia took a deep breath, repeating to herself: It's just a family dinner. Just one night. Just one night.
She stood up, her red, elegant dress cascading down to her feet. Tiny diamonds shimmered across the fabric, catching the light with every movement. Around her neck rested an exquisite diamond necklace that accentuated her collarbone, while her makeup—subtle yet refined—added a soft allure to her features.
Grabbing her purse, she gave Clara a quick smile before heading outside.
Damian was on a phone call when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. His words faltered, and for a brief second, he forgot how to breathe.
Crescentia was wearing the dress he had bought for her, the one he had chosen personally. The jewelry on her wrists glittered like it had been made for her alone.
He gulped, his throat suddenly dry, and loosened his tie as if it would help him breathe better.
Stepping out of the car, he let his gaze trail over her before smirking. "I can see you made an effort tonight."
"You can add a bonus if you're pleased," she quipped back, tilting her chin up slightly. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that made him look taller than the last time she'd seen him.
However, there was something with the way he stared down at her that made her want to dig a hole and hide. She subconsciously pressed her lips together.
He chuckled. "Always with a sharp tongue." He opened the car door for her, and she slid in effortlessly. Once he settled in the driver's seat, he turned to her. "Did you go through everything I sent you?"
The previous day, he had sent her a file detailing the dynamics of his family—who to be wary of, what to say, and most importantly, what not to say.
"I did." Crescentia's hands tightened around her purse as beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, despite the cool air conditioning in the car.
The ride to the Lorenzo estate was silent and suffocating. As they neared the mansion, Crescentia's eyes widened slightly. The estate was exactly as she had expected—grand and intimidating. Security guards were stationed at every entrance, and a fleet of expensive sports cars gleamed under the soft glow of the driveway lights. Each one probably cost more than an entire apartment complex.
As they stepped inside, Crescentia immediately noted how lifeless the place felt. Despite her own family's wealth, her parents had kept their home warm and inviting, decorating the walls with paintings and adding personal touches that made it feel like a home.
This place, however, was the complete opposite. The walls were an uninspired shade of cream, the furniture bland and lacking personality. It was as if the house had been built for the sake of grandeur, not comfort.
Her hand was still linked with Damian's when they arrived at the dining hall. The moment they stepped inside, all conversation ceased, and every pair of eyes locked onto them.
"You're late," a gruff voice rang out.
Crescentia's gaze flickered to the speaker—a middle-aged man whose resemblance to Damian was unmistakable. Rafael Lorenzo. Damian's father.
Damian, unsurprisingly, ignored him and instead walked up to the only person in the room he seemed to respect. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to his grandmother's cheek. "Good evening, Grandma."
The elderly woman, her snow-white hair curled neatly around her face, smiled warmly. "Damian, I'm glad you could make it." Her gaze shifted to Crescentia. "And who is this young lady?"
Damian straightened, his hand still holding Crescentia's as he turned to face his father. His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable challenge in his tone. "This is Crescentia Belmore. My girlfriend."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"Nonsense!" Rafael roared, slamming his palm onto the dining table so hard that the silverware rattled. "You must be joking!"
"I'm not," Damian replied coolly. His grip on Crescentia's hand tightened slightly, as if grounding her.
Before Rafael could unleash another outburst, Damian pulled out a chair for Crescentia. Though momentarily stunned by the sudden hostility, she quickly composed herself and sat down, aware of the piercing gazes locked onto her.
"You dare bring her here?" Mira, Damian's mother, finally spoke. Her tone was sharp, laced with venom. "After everything that happened, you brought a Belmore into this house?"
Crescentia barely had time to process the hostility before Mira continued. "You must remember what Federico did to your father," she spat. Federico was Crescentia's father. "That man was a criminal. He's dead now, but that doesn't erase his sins. And now, you've brought his daughter into our home?" Her cold eyes landed on Crescentia. "The Lorenzo family has nothing to do with the Belmores, and it should stay that way."
Crescentia's chest tightened at the accusation.
Her father. A criminal? That was impossible.
Her fingers curled into fists beneath the table, her heart burning with offence.
"With all due respect," she started, and Mira's cold gaze landed on her. The other people around the table stared at her like that art they were lacking in their home. "My father is not a criminal so I hope to speak about him more respectfully."
A grin stretched on Damian's lips.
Mira's eyes narrowed. "What did you just say to me?"