Chapter 5

LANCE.

"Mr. Lance?" Mr. McVin's voice pulled me out of my regretful thoughts.

I cleared my throat, scanning the board members seated around the polished glass conference table. They were all waiting for me to speak. "Yes. You can get on with the plan. If you'll excuse me," I added, my tone making it clear that there was no room for further discussion.

As the acting CEO of Nexara Technologies, a leading firm in technology and innovation, I knew the pressure that came with it. We were the best when it came to tech startups and software development, and I intended to keep it that way. But life wasn't as perfect as people might assume.

I'd worked tirelessly for the success of this company, and I couldn't help but hope deep down that my father would wills it to me.

It had been five years since my father, Bernard Rollins, retired, and I took over. Taylor, on the other hand, had Regal Reality Estates, one of the leading real estate companies in the country, though not as massive as Nexara.

Little wonder, Taylor had always had his eyes on Nexara, and he wouldn't hesitate to take it over if Dad ever willed it to him.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I sank back into my opulent office chair. This was the reality of my life—business, family legacy, wife... and now, a surrogate. It was all starting to feel overwhelming. But I had to stay positive. I was a man, after all.

My mind drifted to Viella. A pang of guilt hit my chest. When did I become such a monster? Me? Lance? Hitting my wife? The stress had been getting to me, no doubt about it.

Viella had left the house even before I woke up. I felt guilty as hell. I tried calling her a few times, but she wasn't answering. She was probably on set, but fuck, I didn't care.

I dialed Ric's number again for the third time that morning. "Ric..." I said into the phone, trying to calm myself.

"Oh, Lance. What do you want again? Come on, man, just apologize to her already," Ric said, his tone light and playful.

"But she isn't answering her phone," I muttered, frustration bleeding into my voice. "I'm a total mess, man. I can't concentrate on work..." I pinched the bridge of my nose again. "I feel like I'm losing everything."

Ric's tone shifted. "Okay, Lance. Here's what you need to do. Get her something that screams 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you.' How about the latest Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300+? It's the pinnacle of luxury, and it'll definitely turn heads."

I hesitated. "Come on... A car? That won't show how sorry I am, Ric. I hit her! I hit the woman I love. A woman I've never laid a finger on since I met her…"

"Trust me," Ric said. "Send it over to her office. It'll make her friends and colleagues jealous. She'll be happy. Just give it a try."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I just want to make sure it's the right move. I don't want to give her something that feels like a bribe rather than a genuine apology."

"This will work," Ric assured me.

"Alright, I'll go ahead with it. But I need to get her something else too. Maybe jewelry or a handbag?"

Ric replied eagerly. "Exactly. Get her some high-end jewelry—maybe a diamond necklace from Cartier. And don't forget a luxury handbag. Hermes just released a rare Birkin bag that's bound to impress."

Ric was always the fixer among us. He knew exactly what to do to make things right. I knew better than to argue with him.

"Okay. Fine. I'll get them." I said with resignation.

I swung into action. Within ten minutes, my accountant was already wiring a total of 7.3 million dollars into three different accounts for the luxury gifts I was getting for Viella.

"Cancel all my appointments. I'll be gone for some hours," I instructed my PA through the intercom.

***

VIELLA.

I wasn't the lively Viella everyone knew today. I'd already made more than a hundred errors on set.

As one of the most popular love and relationship TV presenters, hosting the all-time Tender Moments show, I was always expected to be at my best. I'd worked so hard to get here, to build this perfect image that people admired.

My marriage was the epitome of what people craved to emulate, and it had played a huge part in my success. I had become a role model for so many, and that was how I got this far in the entertainment industry.

LoveLink Entertainment, one of the most well-known entertainment companies in the US, had never been fond of scandals, and so far, I'd done nothing but bring them a good name. Who else could they have chosen to be the manager if not me?

"Viella! Do you need some time off?" Mr. Keller's voice broke through my thoughts, his frustration clear. We were just thirty minutes away from going on air, and we still hadn't finished rehearsing.

Keller's imposing figure and sharp, angular features perfectly matched his impatient and no-nonsense demeanor.

"No, Keller. I'm fine," I forced a smile, though it felt like I was lying to everyone, including myself.

I wore a sophisticated, sleeveless silk dress in deep emerald green that clung to my form with understated elegance. The dress fell just below my knees, showing off my slender legs in a pair of nude Christian Louboutin pumps, the iconic red soles peeking out beneath the hem.

My long, chestnut hair cascaded in soft waves, framing my face. I had styled it to perfection, hoping it would distract from the scar my husband's slap had left on my face.

"Then let's do this," Keller said, running his fingers through his neatly combed gray hair.

Just then, a slight knock sounded on the door.

"Who the fuck is it?" Keller snapped in frustration, turning his gaze to the door.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's someone out here to see Mrs. Rollins," Tiana's voice came through the door, soft and apologetic.

"Who the fuck is that bastard? Don't they know she is at work?" Keller snapped, his eyes narrowing as he turned sharply toward the door, his impatience boiling over as he struggled to keep his composure. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

Tiana darted her gaze between Keller, me, and the crew. "That would be Mr. Lance Rollins," she whispered.

Keller's expression softened immediately. Lance was one of their biggest sponsors, and no one in their right mind would keep him waiting.

"Fuck? Why didn't you say so?" Keller transferred his aggression onto Tiana before turning to meet my stunned gaze. "What are you waiting for? Go ahead already! Don't keep your husband waiting!"

I was speechless at first, my thoughts a jumbled mess, but I hurried outside anyway. I didn't want to, not now, not when the hurt from our argument still burned deep inside me. But I couldn't let the onlookers see the cracks in my 'perfect' marriage. They all had to believe it was still flawless.

As I stepped out into the brisk air, I was immediately greeted by a dazzling array of luxury vehicles and a flurry of flashing cameras.

Lance, as usual, had come with some of his escorts.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the opulent Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300+ parked in front of the studio. Its sleek, aerodynamic form glinted under the sunlight, drawing every ounce of attention in the area.

The scene around me was buzzing with activity. Reporters and paparazzi swarmed around the car, snapping pictures and shouting questions, all eager to capture the moment.

I couldn't help but feel my breath hitch as I spotted Lance. He was surrounded by his usual entourage of bodyguards and assistants, all holding bags filled with luxury items.

He made his way toward me. "Viella," his voice held the kind of emotion and vulnerability that I rarely ever heard from him. "I… I'm sorry."

He gestured to the bags he was holding. "I wanted to make things right. I thought—maybe these would help."

The onlookers, including the reporters and paparazzi, shifted their focus to me, their cameras clicking furiously as they captured every moment.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, at the extravagant gifts, at the spectacle we were creating. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against the elegant leather of the Birkin bag. It was undoubtedly beautiful, but it felt so hollow in a way I couldn't ignore.

"I… I appreciate the gesture," I said, my voice trembling as I struggled to keep my composure. I sluggishly wrapped my arms around him.

The Internet was already on fire with pictures and videos of me—the relationship TV presenter—and my seemingly perfect marriage.

As we hugged, I felt a slight vibration coming from his suit pocket. His phone.

He quickly pulled it out, and standing so close to him, I saw the caller ID on the screen.

Noralie.